Blue Bananas in the Moonlight - and Selections from the Goblin Kingdom
by Shadow131
Summary: The new Goblin Queen is unhappy, and it's up to Bugwit, Nogtwit and Wog to find out why. Light-hearted adventures do NOT ensue. Rated for peachiness and Slightly Evil Jareth.
1. Blue Bananas in the Moonlight

A.N.: I keep telling Mztlynne she's to hit me on the head regularly so I stop getting so many damn ideas. She has failed in this yet again. So now this is happening.

Damn it, damn it, damn it.

Also, I hate "Cats," but maybe that's appropriate here.

Be careful of the genres here, people! It's humor/angst, and I know that seems weird, but trust me on it! It's not quite dubious consent, but it is a little iffy, so consider yourselves warned! Those of you looking for sweet, fluffy Jareth from "Signed,"...run.

**Blue Bananas in the Moonlight**

The goblins had never had a Queen before, and they found this development exciting, stimulating, promising and appetite inducing.

That last category, however, may have been irrelevant. Most things were appetite inducing for goblins.

The older, smarter, better made goblins that tended the King's Library did their best to correct this notion: there, in fact, _had _been Goblin Queens in the past, though it was long ago, and before the reign of King Jareth. This last point had been a bone of contention.

"Nu uh! King has _always _been King!"

The Chief Librarian had pinched his long, bumpy nose and taken off his very smudgy spectacles with a sigh. "There _have _been other Goblin Kings, just long ago."

"...But _King _is King."

"Now, yes. But before."

But none of the goblins who were alive now could remember before, so that didn't exactly make a whole lot of sense to them.

But to the topic at hand, the goblins _loved _their new Queen. They had always loved King Jareth and never wanted him to stop being King, so the addition of Queen Sarah was like Bonus Round Monarchy to them.

"Pretty," lilted Nogtwit, and he held up a few dark hairs he had pulled from the brush on her vanity.

"Smells good," agreed Bugwit, hugging one of her white, lace gloves to his torso, which would have fit him like a tunic.

"Sad eyes," sighed Wog, and his thin, boar's tail swept the dusty ground and rolled chicken feathers back and forth across the castle stones.

"What?"

"What?"

"Sad?" A sea of goblin faces turned to the upstart Wog, yellow and blue and puce and green eyes narrowed or widened in study. One of the members of the Goblin Guard stomped up to Wog, who, bravely, did not flinch away. This one was close to four feet tall, with a large, pot belly and low, protruding tusks. "Why Queen be sad?"

"Dunno," Wog shrugged, his tail still moving back and forth. "But she look out window and sigh." And Wog mimicked the forlorn voice of a princess locked in the highest room of the tallest tower: "_Ahhh_..."

Goblins in groups of twos and threes began murmuring anxiously amongst one another: sad, the Queen sad? This was not good. When the King was sad, bad things happened. Storms of ice and fire rained from the sky, at least three times as many of them visited the Bog of Eternal stench as on average, and there was _no _music or games in the rumpus room. What might the Queen do if she were sad? And perhaps worse, what might the _King _do for her?

"We can't have no sad Queen," the Goblin Guardsman at last pronounced over the worrying crowd, stretching out his spear in an effort for quiet (his spear was a broom handle with a large, curved rock attached to the end, but it was a very sharp rock, and the threat of it alone was generally quite effective on others in the Goblin Kingdom). "Some must find out why sad, and then fix!" More murmurs broke out amongst the nervous goblins, but the Guardsman silenced them by smacking his broom handle along the stone floor. When all were quiet, he looked the others over appraisingly and at last seemed to make his decision with a nod. Sweeping his staff across the group, he pointed it at Bugwit first. "You," he said, and Bugwit's chest puffed up and his tuft of scratchy, black hair bobbed with his agreement. "You," he addressed Nogtwit, who tried to shrink into the crowd and become invisible. "And you," he pointed finally at Wog, whose tail wagged more enthusiastically. "You see Queen, you fix."

Bugwit and Wog stood and saluted the Guard. Each seizing one of Nogtwit's legs, they dragged him from the rumpus room, not minding that his spindly claws left gouges in the rock as he was dragged behind them.

* * *

Much as Wog had described, Sarah sat in the large, open half-circle window of her room and sighed as she looked out over the Labyrinth. It would be a warm day today, she could feel the heat of the sun on her skin, and she closed her eyes against the light. Summer Underground; she thought of her plans to go to Huntington Beach with Toby and help him catch little crabs, but all that was gone now. Every plan she'd ever made was as lost as a dry leaf in a stiff breeze.

Sarah had been excited to turn eighteen, she remembered, drawing her skirted knees up to her chest and laying a pale cheek across them. She hadn't been able to sleep for all her thoughts and plans for her glorious future – just four more weeks till graduation, and Columbia in the fall, and then on to a brilliant career – and she had stayed up till midnight in nervous anticipation, just watching the numbers on the clock turn. She'd danced in her pajamas when the clock struck twelve, singing to herself.

_"__Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me! Happy eighteen, dear Sarah!" _

_"__Happy birthday to you."_

_She shrieks and turns, and her window has come open. It's now May first, but the nights are still cold,and she wraps her arms around herself in horror; her pajamas are far too thin to protect from the kind of chill she feels in the air, and worse, they cannot protect her from who is standing on her window seat – _leering _at her._

_Oh God, oh God, _no_, it's him-! "Amazing what three years can do for a mortal girl, isn't it?" His black boots are shiny as he steps off the ledge, walking closer to her with a predatory sneer on his pale lips. "While your attire leaves a little too much to the imagination, you _do _look lovely."_

_Sarah screams again, she picks up the lamp on her bedside table and _hurls _it at his head. "Get away! Get away from me – _don't touch me!"

"Queen?" Sarah jumped where she sat at the window, and felt for a moment she'd nearly tumbled out. She thought to herself, _Would have saved me some trouble_, but by the shaking of her hands, she knew that wasn't true: she most definitely didn't want to die. Instead, she turned to look at the three little faces peeking through her chamber door.

Wait, no. Two little faces, and between them, a goblin bottom with its tail between its legs. Sarah smiled. "H-hi, guys. You can come in." Bugwit and Wog walked into the Queen's chambers, dragging a still nervous Nogtwit behind them, and bowed low. Sarah smiled again and made sure her cheeks were dry. She didn't like crying around the goblins. "What are you doing with Nogtwit?"

The two that stood looked at one another thoughtfully. "Pulling him."

"I can see that," she dryly replied, already beginning to feel a little better just for the distraction. "But why?"

"...cause?"

"Because why?"

"Queen?" Wog let go of one of Nogtwit's legs and carefully scrambled up onto the window ledge next to her. "Why you have sad face?"

"Do I?" Sarah's pale brow furrowed with concern. She hadn't wanted to worry any of them.

Wog nodded, and Bugwit dragged Nogtwit closer to her so he could lay his head on her knee like a comforting Labrador Retriever. Sarah patted the tuft of his hair absentmindedly. "All time," Wog replied. "Look out window, sigh big sighs, look _sad_."

"I..." Sarah hesitated, stammering a little and looking from the faces of the worried goblins to the dull orange glow of the Labyrinth. "I guess I just miss home," she whispered, and no sooner had the words left her lips than all three mouths formed an O and they nodded their comprehension. Even Nogtwit sat up – as best he could, with Bugwit not releasing his hind leg.

"Queen not from here!" They chatted amongst themselves, and Sarah watched them with curiosity.

"She miss thing from home."

"We bring here, she no be sad?"

"Sound good," Bugwit approved.

"Sound good," Wog confirmed with a nod, and they all turned back to look at her; well, Nogtwit did not turn, as he was still being held by the leg. Rather, he rolled his head under so that his nose faced his stomach, and observed Sarah from his position upside down.

"Er..." Sarah pulled back from them slightly, all three sets of eyes on her. "You guys are creeping me out a bit..."

"What you miss from home, Queen?" Bugwit began with calm authority.

"What do I miss?" Sarah repeated, still not sure what to think about their sudden interest. "Well...lots of things, I guess."

"Like which?"

"Um..." She puzzled over this for a moment, and began very slowly. "I miss the smell of fresh brewed coffee, and the hum of towels in the dryer, and..." The light was coming back to her green eyes little by little as she spoke, and she picked up the pace. "I miss the feeling of getting out of school on Friday afternoon, and the taste of bananas, and my worn out old slippers, and my brother, and-"

"We no allowed take brother..." Nogtwit muttered darkly to one of his companions. They both nodded.

"That one no good. What banana?" he spoke up, addressing Sarah, who had been in the middle of explaining strawberry ice cream cones at the ice cream parlor, and she seemed surprised to be awakened from her reminisces.

"Bananas?" she repeated, and watched as all those little heads nodded. "You know, they're like, uh...long and yellow, and they sort of are shaped like an...um..." No comparison that sprang to her mind was really appropriate – probably because she kept thinking of Jareth's pants, and blushed _furiously_. "It's a fruit," she at last said, clipping the "t," with finality.

"...what you do with it?"

"You eat it," she laughed, swinging her legs forward from the sill so she could step back into her bedroom. "But you can cook with it, too: banana bread, banana cream pie-"

"Cream?"

"Cream," she sighed. "Like, 'cream in your coffee.'"

"_Ohhh_..." They nodded again.

Wog leaned into Bugwit and whispered, "What coffee?" Bugwit shrugged. Wog did not press this reveal and instead patted her bony knee. "You no worry, Queen! We find banana, we fix _everything_."

"I appreciate the offer..." Sarah began, sliding down to the floor from her seat. "But one banana isn't exactly going to fix things."

"...two?"

"If you want bananas, you have to plant a banana tree," she explained, pointing to some of the swaying trees of the forest beyond. The goblins all looked, studiously. "For banana trees, you cut part of the root of one tree and plant it. Bananas are clones like that."

"_Ohhhh_," they said again.

"...you don't know what that means, do you?" she asked them, her hands knotted into fists at her hips.

"No worry, Queen!" Bugwit assured her, giving Nogtwit's leg a good pull so that he was back on his stomach again. "We find nana tree."

"We plant."

"Make _lots _bananas!"

"You guys-" Sarah tried to interrupt them again, but the trio had already started to march off – well, all but Nogtwit, who was still being dragged along on his belly, but he was waving affectionately to Sarah as he was pulled from the room. "You guys!" Sarah began to give them chase, jogging across her bedroom-

But was stopped by the person standing in her doorway, and she nearly collided with Jareth's firm chest. The poor girl squeaked.

"Good afternoon, _Sarah_," the Goblin King purred her name, stepping forward with the long, lanky, confident stride of a jungle cat. For every inch he advanced, Sarah retreated. "I thought we might take the afternoon meal together."

"D-don't you have work to do?" she asked nervously, her backwards motion stopped when she collided with the chair of her vanity. Jareth came to loom over her, resting his gloved hands on either side of the tabletop, and Sarah collapsed onto the small chair with a bit of a whimper, his sharp face very close to her own.

"I am ahead of schedule," he assured her in a low, _powerful _tone of voice, and she began to shiver. "So I have come to share the extra time with you."

"Th-that's nice of you, but I'm not really hungr-"

"You _will _eat lunch with me, Sarah." The King's voice was harsh, his words clipped, and a dangerous flash of something went through his pale gaze. Sarah gulped a little. "Or would you prefer to dine in the privacy of your sitting room? I can oblige." Jareth snapped his fingers, and Sarah turned her head to see her small table covered with a vast array of delicacies, two silver goblets, and a large carafe of water. "I shall satisfy your appetite for food, and you..." The Goblin King tucked two of his gloved fingers beneath the girl's chin and tilted her head up to look him directly in the eye. His lips pulled away from sharp, glittering teeth. "You shall satisfy my appetite for _other things_."

The poor girl began to tremble.

* * *

"Was stupid idea!" Bugwit was scolding Wog when the trio returned to the rumpus room and explained their plan. "Promising her nana tree. How we go Aboveground? How we get trees?"

Wog's long ears pulled back along his head, not liking his public upbraiding. "Someone make wish, we go up!"

"Someone make wish – _next to nana tree_?" There was a murmur amongst the gathered crowd that this was not a very likely event and Wog became cross.

"So we make wish! We wish to go up and get tree!" There was a startled gasp amongst the others, and dozens of eyes fixed on Wog and his _audacious _plan.

After a moment or two of consideration, the Guardsman shook his head. "King no like."

"Is for Queen?" Nogtwit offered from his position on the ground, behind Bugwit. More discussion was had on this, and it was generally decided that, yes, for the Queen, His Majesty might be a bit more lenient with the rules.

A young she-goblin by the name of Tweezledown – with the loveliest yellow teeth – stepped bashfully forward. "Me wish you could go Aboveground, get present for Queen?"

The magic that made up the atmosphere of the Underground seemed to waver slightly at this request, but must have decided they were more or less the Right Words, and the trio of goblins disappeared with a small, "Pop, pop, _pop_!"

* * *

Banana trees were not used to being so violently handled as this one had been by Bugwit when it was ripped from the ground in the tropical heat of Costa Rica. He had used his serrated teeth to carve a sizable mound of the root off, while Wog and Nogtwit giddily climbed the strange trees in order to bring back samples of the pungent fruit.

Banana trees were also not used to being forced into the rich earth of the King's garden in the Underground – nor was the Underground used to growing them.

This unexpected union of Under and Above – somewhat metaphorical to another situation inside the Castle – created a produce of the most interesting sort, and the little sapling thrived in just thirteen dark hours. It sprouted, it blossomed, it grew.

And goblin fruit was made.

* * *

The King was not in a humor to bear the shouting he could hear coming from his Throne Room. "I'll kill them," he muttered darkly to himself, giving a stray chicken a vicious kick that sent it flying farther than it was used to traveling down the long, stone corridor. The sounds of raucous cavorting merely grew louder as his boots created a, "click, click, click," as he strode through the hall. "I'll bog the whole bloody lot of them. Seven in the morning, and _screaming _in my own bloody-"

The Goblin King threw open the huge doors of his Throne Room, and they hit the walls with a noticeable, "Boom!" but none of the absolutely over-joyed goblins seemed to mind much. With royal jaw slightly slack, Jareth watched them: some were dancing, some were bowing before him out of deference, others were kissing his boots in sheer happiness. This last group he kicked off, growling, "Stop that, you'll make them dirty."

"Majesty!" A round and bouncy goblin came bounding up to him like a child's rubber ball. "Majesty, Majesty!"

"What!" Jareth snapped, trying to determine the cause for such disgusting chaos.

"Look! Nanas!"

"So many nanas!"

"Bananas, bananas!"

And there _were _bananas. _Mountains _of bananas, _pyramids _of bananas stood in teetering stacks all around the Throne, piled next to walls, bananas being thrown, bananas being eaten whole, peels and all. And what was more, there were far more than just the dull yellow bananas a mortal might find at the supermarket: liberally mixed amongst these were bananas of a blue, even sapphire hue, twinkling delightedly amongst the stacks and stacks of tropical fruit. Jareth could do little else but stare – until he at last seized one passing party-goer and snarled, "Do you mean to tell me I have become King over a _plantation_?"

"'s going on?" There was a sleepy murmur by his elbow, and Sarah appeared behind him, covered only in his discarded shirt from the night before – which, luckily, was far too big for her, the sleeves dripping several inches beyond her fingertips. She rubbed a bit of the lace against her tired eyes and swayed on her bare feet. "I heard shouting...is there a prob-" and the girl gasped, pulling her hands to her chest and taking in the scene the way her husband had a few moments before.

"Queen!" Wog slid down one of the banana hills like he were sledding and ran to her in excited leaps and bounds, Nogtwit and Bugwit following excitedly behind. "Queen, see! We got them, we got the bananas!"

"You did!" Sarah squealed, and caring nothing for propriety, she scooped the little beast up and twirled him in her arms, planting affectionate kisses on his wrinkly, smelly head. "You guys did it, you did!"

Jareth watched this display, his bare hand tightening on the elegantly carved handle of his door, his sharp teeth set to a painful grinding – and realized he had never been more jealous in his entire, long life.

* * *

It would be a well recorded fact in the annals of goblin history that the steady diet of banana mush had done much to soothe the temperaments and wicked tendencies of the goblin race. It had also induced bowel movements the likes of which had never been seen before, and would seldom be seen since; and as the sewers of the Goblin City ran to the Bog of Eternal Stench, some of the less olfactory-adept goblin scientists were able to note that the level of the Bog rose by a solid quarter inch during this period.

This was less of an issue for the King and Queen, as their diet held considerably more variety than just mashed banana, but the fruit _did _grow tiresome after a while: they dined on banana cream pie, chocolate and banana bread, and snacked on dried banana chips when out between meals. Slices of banana were served over hot cereal in the mornings, desperate cooks created banana ice cream and banana cupcakes. At the Midsummer Festival, every guest was given a large, personal banana split (though they little knew what to do with them), and along with their Goblin Ale, some of the more resourceful residents of the kingdom had begun distilling their own banana liqueur. At length, the King made very plain – and in an official address that would be delivered to the _entire _Goblin Kingdom – that if he were served another tropical fruit, cylindrical in shape, anytime in the next five hundred years, the one offering it would be hung by their toes and suspended over the Bog of Eternal Stench for the rest of known time.

In the haze of potassium of those few weeks, Bugwit, Nogtwit and Wog had congratulated themselves heartily on their rousing success, and had been equally lauded by their goblin peers. One of the Royal Composers was orchestrating an opera to be performed about their dangerous mission to the Aboveground to hunt down the elusive and magical fruit, and how in doing so they had saved the kingdom. The success, however, was short lived: always the more sensitive of the trio, Wog noticed right away that Her Majesty's delight at all the sudden treats was not of the permanent kind. Oh, she had smiled and laughed and spun stories about making such confections with her stepmother in the Above, but very quickly the light left her green eyes, and the pale and drawn quality returned to her face.

Wog was whining piteously in the rumpus room, pacing back and forth and ignoring the growls he was receiving when his spindly tail knocked over tankards of ale and banana cordial. "Queen _sad _again!" he keened, a noise that would have put a marine's arm hairs on end. "_So _sad! She cries," and he seemed to cry in return, a desperate sound, an, "_Awoooo_," not unlike a lonely dog.

Nogtwit looked up from where he had been lapping spilled ale off the ground, flecks of dust and tufts of chicken feathers sticking to his bumpy lips. "...we give more nanas?" he asked, but Wog shook his head.

"No, no more bananas. They no fix first time."

Bugwit looked over from his spot on a threadbare pillow, where he had been grooming his favorite chicken. "We visit?"

Tweezeldown,with the yellow teeth (who now had suitors comparing their beauty to ripe bananas), shook her head widely. "No visit!" she cried, shaking her long, clawed fingers at them. "Queen do loud time with King!"

The soldier of the Goblin Guard cocked his head at a ninety degree angle. "Loud time?"

The she-goblin took a deep breath, and – in a surprisingly good imitation of their Queen – cried out, "_Stop, Jareth, no, don't touch me like that! Get your paws off me, you stupid, owl faced jerk! Stop it, stop it, stop- oh God, yes, don't stop, don't stop, ah!_" The goblins stared at her after her performance, goblin jaws hanging open with goblin tongues lolling out, though they did not really know why this was their reaction. The female simply shrugged. "That noise that come through door when they do loud time," she said, and apparently, this was all the explanation necessary.

After a long – _very _long – moment, Bugwit cleared his throat and scratched his rumpled tuft of hair. "Well..." he coughed, plucking a stray feather from his hen. "...what we do cheer her up?"

"What thing Queen like?"

"What thing Queen miss?"

Wog was a far cleverer little beastie than anyone gave him the proper credit for; not smart, not intelligent enough to work in the kitchens or the library, but he had an innate sensibility that made him infinitely well suited for the task of bringing his most beloved Queen some measure of happiness. This in mind, his boar's tail whipped back and forth with mindful agitation, and he grinned in the frightening way goblins do. "We go her house," he purred in a less refined way than his King might. "We go old room. We find thing."

This set up quite the murmured gasping through the rumpus room. "Such trouble!" scolded one of the older goblins. While some had gone to Sarah's house to fetch the child, _none _had ever been inside her childhood bedroom before! The only one to do that had been...

"Tweezledown," Wog turned to the she-goblin, "You make wish again, send us Aboveground."

Tweezledown visibly hesitated, her yellow teeth pulling at a stubby lip. "Er..."

"Five minute," Wog assured her with goopy, puppy dog eyes, holding up four fingers. "We come right back." Nogtwit was howling at the prospect of yet another adventure, and Bugwit had to physically restrain him by lifting the struggling creature up off the ground.

At last, however, Tweezledown nodded. "Five minute," she nodded, holding up four fingers in return. "I wish..."

* * *

"Pssst!" At no immediate response, Nogtwit hissed louder. "_Pssst_!"

"_What_," drawled Bugwit, his mood surly as he kept lookout by the girl's window. The parade of detectives that had invaded her room, looking for _any _clues as to the reasoning behind her disappearance, had at long last put all her belongings back as they had been before. But all the fingerprinting and fine dusting in the world could not wipe away what the stronger of the goblin trio observed on the windowsill: the fine, opalescent sheen of glitter, of the King's magic. This was how he had come to get her that night.

Nogtwit was not being nearly so observant, and was, in fact, hiding under one of Sarah's old, pink pillows on her bed. "We no alone!" he whispered.

Bugwit just rolled his eyes. "Duh."

"No!" he whimpered. "Look! There be-"

"This!" Wog struggled from the bottom of one of the drawers at Sarah's old vanity, holding up a worn red book. "She miss this one?"

Bugwit looked carefully studious for a moment – but then shook his head dismissively. "Books in library, she no need books." Wog gave an annoyed huff and went back to digging.

Nogtwit had begun a high-pitched, very pathetic whine, a sure sign he was upset, or he needed to use the bathroom. "_Bugwit_..."

"Shut dumb face."

"This?" Wog appeared again with a very carefully bundled towel, and Bugwit hopped down from his perch at the window to sniff it cautiously. Wog's knobby fingers peeled away the cotton towel, revealing a strange, purple object about as long as his arm and thick as his hand was across at one point in the center. In shape, it reminded him of an inflexible banana, but it did not smell like one; he licked it and made a face. It did not taste like one either.

Bugwit sniffed again and wrinkled his pug nose. "What that?"

"...dunno," admitted Wog, examining it carefully. "But it have button," and he pressed it. The thing immediately began to buzz and move in his hand and he dropped it to the floor while all three goblins screamed and Nogtwit dove back beneath the pillow.

"_Kill it, kill it, kill it, kill it_-"

"It dangerous?" Bugwit gasped, using a stuffed bear as a shield.

Wog carefully observed the rigid, humming snake from on top of the vanity, waiting for it to reveal its teeth and strike – but it never did. It simply kept buzzing and vibrating on the ground, the shaking motion making it bump across the floor a little. "...no think so..." he muttered, cautiously stretching a toe toward the odd beast. When it did not move to bite, he pounced like an oversized house cat and hit the button again. The beast went quiet.

Bugwit gave his companion a disapproving look. "No more buttons!"

"No more buttons..." he muttered.

Nogtwit was howling again, and at last the others turned to see what had upset him so. "More goblins here!" he nearly sobbed. "Big ones!"

"...no goblin smells," replied a very confused Bugwit, looking around.

Nogtwit directed his attention to the wall above the bed with a shaking finger, crying, "Look!"

The other two pulled themselves up on top of the tiny bed and stared hard. There were definitely two slanted yellow eyes observing them, but the eyes never blinked or moved or made any more study of them than that. With great bravery, Bugwit at last smacked at the wall – and was met with a flat surface. "...that no goblin," he grumbled, arms folded across his bony chest. "That...picture."

"It got words," Wog added, and he ran his knobby finger along the print. "_C-a-a-a-a-t-s_..." he read, long and slow. "Cats. Cats?"

"Cats," repeated Bugwit, completely baffled.

"Maybe she miss...Cats?"

"Cats?" whimpered Nogtwit.

"Cats," nodded Wog.

This was decided upon by all of them in unison, and with the quick, scrambling skill familiar to goblins, they gathered anything in the room that paired with that word or those strange yellow eyes, before the five minutes of magic ran out. The timing was fortuitous, for no sooner had the Underground summoned them home than the door of the bedroom opened, and the round face of a little boy peered in.

"I know I heard something, Daddy!" he was crying out down the dark hallway. "See? Someone's been in Sarah's stuff, come and see!"

* * *

The most familiar of Sarah's nightmares was, of course, a memory.

_"__You're insane. You're absolutely out of your mind!"_

_"__Oh am I?" He sneers at her, revealing the point of sharp, dangerous teeth, and she draws farther back, knowing that she's about to hit the bed and there will be nowhere to run to once that happens. She catches sight of the clock on her nightstand and almost screams again: the numbers no longer flash twelve oh one, but thirteen._

She _is the one going out of her mind._

_But no, she has to fight him, and yells as much at him. "I won't go with you, I will not!"_

_"__Sarah..." His growl is low, it's frightening, but she tries to hold firm._

_"__No, it's bullshit! I beat the Labyrinth, _I beat you_!"_

_"__And here is your reward!" He grabs her by the wrist and pulls her so hard against him, and she feels like she might start crying at any second. "I have no more choice in this affair than you do: but you _did _beat the Labyrinth, and that gives you power over it. It's the most ancient rite – prove your worth and become the King's consort."_

_"__I'd rather sleep with the Pope!" she shrieks at him, struggling against his hold._

_Jareth just laughs low in his chest – laughs at her and all her struggles. "Possible to arrange, but not nearly so much fun."_

_"__I know you're lying! If it were true, you would have kept me then!"_

_"__Think we're so smart, do we?" he hisses at her, and God but she's afraid. "I don't _fuck _little girls, Sarah. Oh, physically you were ready, but your mind, your spirit...you had not matured enough to be able to handle the Queenship."_

_"__And now I have?" she spits, incredulous, feeling her weak and tired body begin to fail against him. Please God, no, please give her strength!_

_"__Enough," he nods. "You have reached the age of majority among your people, have you not?"_

_"__W-what?" What in the hell did that mean? Did he mean...because she was eighteen? What kind of messed up logic was _that_! "It...it's just a birthday!" she stammers and his gloved fingers wrap around her chin and he _hurts _her._

_"__It's good enough to serve the Labyrinth's purposes," he mutters, and scoops her easily into his arms all while she thrashes against him in her thin little pajamas. And he just keeps laughing at her! "You know the tradition of carrying the bride over the threshold, yes?" He leans his sharp face into hers, so she can see the lustful glimmer in his eyes and how close his mouth is to hers._

_Sarah Williams will feel ashamed of herself forever, because in that moment, in his arms and with him leering at her like that, she feels a desperate ache deep in the pit of her stomach and a slow growing dampness between her thighs._

_If Jareth notices, he does not say, and continues speaking: "It suits our purposes. Not all brides were as obliging as you in the ancient times-" She lifts her hands to claw his eyes out, but he catches her wrists easily in just one gloved hand, still holding her with one arm. That horrible, humiliating chuckle. "Some were dragged off from their families and had to be carried into their lord and husband's house as they would not go willingly." And before she can take another breath, before she can give a desperate scream, the world is melting around her, and-_

"Queen?"

Sarah's tired, green eyes peeled open at this address, and she stared, unblinking, up at the canopy above the bed. "Where is he?" Her throat was dry and her voice cracked as she spoke.

The little goblin – it was Wog – seemed to turn his head from side to side. "King?" he asked.

Sarah just closed her eyes again and nodded. She was tired, just so tired...of course she was tired, he never let her sleep. The poor girl (for that was all she was, at eighteen) bit her lip and tried to keep the sound of his voice out of her head. "_Do you like it when I touch you like this, Sarah? How about this? Do you enjoy this? Come, come, love, how can I please my wife if she does not speak? I _want _you to speak, Sarah. Speak. Say my name. _Yes. _Cry out, just like that, _gods, yes-"

"He just leave!" Wog helpfully chirruped. Of course he did; Wog would not have dared come in if the King were still present. And why would he stay? It wasn't like Sarah's feelings _mattered _to him. The way he treated her, she was just his harlot to loose his passions on- "Wog come on bed?"

"_No_, Wog!" Her voice was nearly a shriek, which was unusual for her when addressing the goblins, and his ears flattened back against his head in distress. But no, he couldn't come on the bed! See that she was completely nude under the bed spread? See the stains on the sheets? Let her have _some _dignity!

Though he did not know the cause of her discomfort, Wog was well versed in how to soothe his betters. "Wog no come on bed, Majesty," he assured her in a quiet, calm voice, and tilted his head a little to see her shivering there. "You cold? You want Wog get you blankets?" Mutely, Sarah shook her head and bit so hard on her lip she thought it might bleed. Good, she hoped it did, it would be a better reason to cry than her current one. Though he did not climb up onto the huge bed of the King, he did crawl very close to it, lifting his pointy nose to sniff tentatively. "Majesty?"

"Y-yes?" _Don't cry, Sarah, don't you _dare _cry_.

"Wog and friends, we make surprise for you."

Sarah rolled over, being sure to keep the sheet tucked firmly against her bare breast. "You did?"

Wog nodded, mouth opening in his excitement and tongue flopping out. "_Big _surprise!" he grinned, whipping his tail back and forth.

"Wog..." Sarah gasped, pulling herself out of her melancholy a little bit. So much trouble, thinking of her? "You didn't have to do that!"

"Wanted to," he sniffed. "You come see?"

"Now?"

The little goblin shook his head. "Tonight. We have _all _ready tonight! Big show! There be chairs – you bring King?"

Sarah smiled a little, just a very little, and Wog could have purred like a cat for it. "Of course. After dinner?" He nodded hard again. "I can't wait."

Wog spun in a circle in his joy before tearing back to the door. "Okay, okay! Tonight, after dinner, yay! Wog so happy!" And he skittered out of the room, and Sarah smiled a little brighter.

Things weren't all bad.

* * *

Sarah dressed just a little finer for the occasion: not a grand ballgown, but a very small step below that. A pale pink thing, sweetheart cut in the bodice, inlaid with crystals. It was shaped with a narrow crinoline, the silk skirt covered with a layer of pale taffeta, a slightly darker bow accentuating her trim waist. She wore roses of the same shade in her up-swept hair, and the King eyed her hungrily all throughout the meal. When Sarah had taken a last sip of her wine, she found Jareth's white gloved hand waiting at her side to escort her from the dining room. She blinked at it once, then rose from her chair to move without his assistance to the Throne Room, where whatever the surprise was was being staged.

Jareth's eye twitched at the slight. The impudent little...without a word, he seized her small hand in his and twirled her back to him, her skirt flaring in the breeze. Sarah cried out in protest, but the Goblin King's jaw was set with determination and displeasure. Without another word, he wrapped her arm around his and strode from the dining room to the Throne Room.

With what Sarah was sure was no small amount of effort, their heavy twin thrones had been moved to the side, so that the raised dais could be used as a stage, makeshift curtains of purple velvet hanging from the ceiling. A goblin in a stained and slightly grubby jacket bowed low before them and escorted them with great pomp to their waiting seats, while other, lesser goblins brought forward foot rests or offered trays with yet more wine or other delicacies. Jareth accepted two flutes of champagne, but waved the rest off, resting his chin on a balled fist in a decidedly bored expression. Sarah watched all the goings on with a distinct sigh of longing, no doubt remembering her own high school plays.

Jareth turned his head to observe her, rather than the bumbling of his subjects: for one thing, she was much more attractive to look at. _Gods_, was she, the line of her pale throat exposed like that. It made him hungry to sink his teeth into that flesh, gently, oh ever so gently...he began to imagine such pleasures, his tongue running unconsciously over his lips at each delicious thought. He would see her writhe beneath him, smell the roses that perfumed her rich, dark hair...slip his his gloved hand beneath the line of her bodice and squeeze-

Sarah shifted awkwardly in her chair, stealing surreptitious glances in her husband's direction. "Jareth," she addressed him directly.

He did not even blink, still resting his chin on his fist and devouring her with his mismatched gaze. "Hm?"

"Please stop looking at me like that."

"Like what, precious thing?"

"Like a piece of meat," she snapped, turning on the throne to hopefully stare him down. Did the man have absolutely no shame?

After a long, slow, languid moment, Jareth blinked, breathing a sigh through his sharp nose, and leaned back slightly. He looked both insanely contented and distressingly aroused. "I apologize, my dear," he drawled, adjusting his gloves around his wrists. "I was merely thinking back to our...engagement last night."

He was trying to upset her, there was no other explanation for it. Sarah's face burned. "Can we _please _not talk about that here?"

"Why?" He leaned forward against the curved arm of his throne, fixing his eyes on the crook of her throat and shoulder and wanting so desperately to bite her there, then soothe the injury with his tongue...He watched her lean away as he leaned forward. "Are you worried I'll reveal all your favorite things in front of the goblins?"

"You're disgusting!" she cried in a slightly higher, more tense voice that she wanted, and she pressed herself almost full against the arm of her own throne in a pathetic attempt to flee.

"There's nothing disgusting about it, _Sarah_." The girl closed her eyes; damn him, he did not play fair! It was never fair to bring out _that _tone of voice, certainly not in public! Most definitely not fair to say her name like that, in a way that practically defied description! Low, gravelly, _aching _with a barely repressed want. "It's natural and good. I might even call it beautiful, but that would do the word injustice."

"What?" She rolled her green eyes at him, making the mistake of turning her body slightly so she faced him, and had to face the intensity of his looks. Sarah froze and was unable to make her escape now.

"_You _are beautiful," he purred. "To use that word to describe anything else would be a blasphemy."

"Your flatteries don't work on me, _dear_," she growled at him, fingers tense around the arms of the throne in an effort to keep control.

Jareth snorted at her, drawing back slightly so that she felt comfortable enough to sit a little more upright again, as opposed to listing to one side. "Yes, well," he purred, watching her eyes closely to see each reaction that passed there. "You've never been very appreciative of all the things I've given you."

"Given me!" She was close to shouting now. "What have you _ever _given me!"

"Oh, let's see." He raised his hand and began ticking items off by lowering each finger. "A kingdom to rule, a throne beside mine, more dresses and jewels and finery than graced Queen Cleopatra, an eternity of youth and beauty, my solemn oath of fidelity and devotion, my own robust and considerable skills in your bed, I took your brother when you asked it of me, and I gave him back at the end-"

"You ego-maniacal, out of touch..._jackass_!" A few of the goblins turned their heads to see the beginnings of a real shouting match; it was always entertaining when Their Majesties began a full-on argument, but also just a tad bit frightening, like a good horror film. "I didn't want _any _of your..._bullshit_!" the Queen screamed, not caring in the slightest when her husband's nostrils flared or his eyes flashed. "And I would throw it all back in your face _right now_ if I could!" She sputtered for breath, but would not stop when she had her dander up. "I hate you!"

Nogtwit had been checking the lights (annoyed fairies caught in bottles and hung from the ceiling), but he instantly dove for cover. Wog paused in preparing his costume behind the curtain and flattened his ears against his head. The whole room was silent, but for a few stray chickens, waiting to see what His Majesty might do.

To everyone's surprise, the Goblin King did not strike his wife, raise his voice, unleash his magic – or anything at all violent or aggressive. Rather, while Sarah was unprepared, he leaned toward her again and swirled his tongue around the shell of her ear, _grinning _as she shuddered at the hot, wet caress. "That's not what you were saying last night, as I recall..." he was purring. The King looked absolutely maniacal. "When your quivering thighs were wrapped around my head? And I-"

The Goblin Guardsman picked this _excellent _moment to smack Sarah's old stereo, and a whining, familiar sound blared to life, steadying out as the machine warmed up. Jareth flicked his lazy gaze in the black box's direction, Sarah sat up as chords of music she was sure she knew floated in the air...The curtain slowly parted, with much squeaking and quiet swearing of goblin tongues.

One of the goblins tiptoed onto the makeshift stage, a strange array of fur and feathers (where had they found fur?) glued to his face and a piece of spandex wrapped haphazardly around his lumpy body. He seemed incredibly nervous as three or four more goblins came in behind him, but he cleared his throat and spoke – sang? Noised very clearly:

"I has a gumpy cat in mind

Her name is jmny..."

Sarah covered her mouth to stifle her giggles as the poor creature suffered over the made-up, nonsense name. Jareth straightened a little in his seat, his hand dropping away from his chin. "What in the _hell _is this ludicrous display?" Sarah nearly broke out laughing just from that.

The poor goblin performer bravely went on:

"Her coat is of a tammy kind

Wif tiger stripes and leopard spots"

This went on some time until the refrain was reached, and the other goblins in similarly put together costumes jumped up and began their chorus, doing what Sarah was sure they _thought _was a tap dance, and looked more like the desperate spasms of an epileptic. She couldn't help it: she laughed long and hard, the first time in a _long _time she'd laughed. Her face hurt from the way her lips peeled in a smile. None of the goblins seemed to mind this, however, and if anything, it put them more at ease to continue the performance, knowing the Queen was obviously enjoying it. Jareth stared first at the debacle happening on the, "stage," and then at his wife, who had obviously gone entirely mad.

When this number was over, a bashful Tweezledown took the stage, dressed in a white muff Sarah recognized as one she'd given the goblins after she spilled tea down it. The she-goblin wore it like a tube dress, and the stain actually rather completed the look nicely. Those goblins who were not part of the theatrical performance were piled on top of one another in order to see, or hung from the rafters, and several could be heard sighing with longing over the lovely picture Tweezledown made. The little thing bat her lashes up at the lighting rig – the fairies had kindly dulled themselves to an irritated blue – and opened her mouth to sing:

"Mem'ry

All alone in da moonlight

I can smiles at the old days"

She paused, looking very confused, but then shrugged and soldiered on.

"I don't 'member the words

There's a part here

I think it's about sunflowers

Those taste pretty good"

Sarah bit her knuckles until they _bled _to keep from laughing as many of the other theater patrons wiped their eyes or loudly blew their noses. The Goblin King roared for more champagne, though this did not stop Tweezledown's un-harmonic ramble on a variety of different subject.

"I think I'll buy a new comb

Cause I think combs are pretty

Or chase a pig

Or maybe eat some figs

...and nothing rhymes with pretty!"

The Queen was mostly definitely in tears, which her subjects roundly approved of. Jareth snarled at the tiny goblin who came to pour his Liege more of the sparkling wine. "Give me that bottle, you great imbecile!"

"Yes, Majesty, I get more, Majesty!"

"_Obviously, get more_!"

"Jareth-!" Sarah gasped for breath even more than she had when he physically exhausted her in bed, and it made his eyes twitch to notice this. "Stop! It's too great to be shouting!" The King was about to wildly upbraid his wife, but found himself distracted by the storm of applause and whistles that greeted the climax of Tweezledown's performance. The little starlet bowed low to the ground, even blowing kisses to her adoring public, and Sarah swore she saw the Guardsman swoon. The poor young monarch desperately tried to catch her breath.

Before there could be any kind of lull in the show, a brassy, tinny trumpet blared from the stereo speakers, and Wog slid confidently onto the stage, a knowing and seductive glint in his watery eyes. Sarah's jaw dropped. Jareth appeared about ready to crush his champagne glass.

Wog was in a pale pair of the king's silk breeches, the waist pulled up to the _much _smaller goblin's armpits. The legs dragged well behind him on the ground, quite aiding in his slide onto the stage. It was very clear from the way he rotated his hips and from the squeals erupting from the audience that he thought himself _highly _alluring. A much less practiced goblin in a far lesser costume offered him a bowl.

"You want pheasant?"

Wog raised his nose in the air.

"No, grouse."

"You want house?"

"No, flat."

"Rat?"

"Mouse."

The most enthusiastic chorus yet piled onto the stage, every performer from every number, twirling and jiving with all the passion possible in little goblin hearts. Sarah was clutching her sides and _howling_.

"Rum Tum Tugger is curious cat!

Rum Tum Tugger don't like to cuddle!"

"_Enough_!" Their King had sprung to his feet, and a hush fell over the Throne Room. The Guardsman slammed the stereo in startled desperation, and the abused machine whined before at last bringing the soundtrack to an clumsy halt. Sarah's laughter started to die, but slowly. "This _humiliating _display is _over_!" Chickens clucked awkwardly, but Sarah furrowed her brow and rose to her feet.

"_Don't _yell at them."

"_Excuse me_?"

"You heard me!" The girl was suddenly a Queen, and the goblins _stared_. "They were having fun and they were trying their best, so _don't _yell at them."

Jareth's fists squeezed and relaxed in a rhythmic, pulsing movement, perhaps in time to the way a vein at his forehead had started to throb. "How _dare _you-"

"You go ahead and do whatever the _hell _you like with me," Sarah shouted, the adrenaline keeping her from experience a very rational fear. "But just leave them the hell alone!" A very loud, very palpable silence hung over the Throne Room, and it was broken by something absolutely _terrifying_.

The sharp smile of the Goblin King.

"Done," he purred, and before Sarah could in any way fight him, he bent before her and pulled her over his shoulder, holding her by the backs of her knees.

The Goblin Queen was screaming, pounding her fists against her husband's broad back. She would have done her level best to kick him, but he had seized her ankles with one hand, and continued to look like the, ahem, cat who had eaten the cream. "Put me down!" the young girl was shrieking. "Take your hands off me! What do you think you're doing?"

"Whatever the hell I like with you, precious thing," the horrifying man grinned against her leg before biting at her thigh through the thick layers of her skirt. His teeth were sharp enough, however, that Sarah hissed at the sensation. The King kicked stray goblins and chickens out of his path as he walked to the large double doors, and they opened at a mere gesture of his fingers. The small goblin Jareth had earlier harassed was scampering down the hall with a new bottle of champagne, and the fey king blocked his path, still smiling that awful smile. "Ah, excellent. Send that to my suite, would you? And," he jerked his head angrily in Wog's direction; the little goblin's ears went back and he actually began to growl low and defensively in his throat. "Burn those trousers. Better yet, throw them into the Bog of Eternal Stench. I do not wish to _ever _lay eyes on them again." Sarah still thrashed against his shoulder and Jareth chuckled in a frightening way, running his hand up her thigh to squeeze her round bottom. "_Patience, _my love. I'll see you satisfied soon, not to worry."

"_Go to hell, you sadistic son of a bitch_!"

"_Darling_," he was purring, doing the same motion again but this time with his hand under her skirt; Sarah stiffened and then shivered under his touch. "Don't make me get out the restraints and that sweet scarf we used to gag you before. Actually," he paused thoughtfully and jostled her as though he were adjusting the way her weight lay across his body. "I know how _wet_ that made you. Go on and fight me, I'll make it worth your while."

Dozens of goblin eyes strained in goblin heads, that were arched on goblin necks that peered through the great doors of the Throne Room in an effort to see down the darkening hallway, where their Queen's screams could still be heard echoing.

* * *

For the first time in his long, little life, Wog was _mad _at his sovereign.

The idea that any subject, by their nature subservient to their king, could dare to be angry with the ones who held power over their lives was an absolutely radical one, but it whirled and buzzed inside the little goblin's brain like a fly buzzing around the Bog of Eternal Stench. He prowled around the Throne Room like a miniature tiger taken off too tight a leash, and snarled and snapped and bore his pointed teeth to anyone who might flinch at him. Most of the others were busy taking apart the makeshift set, though Tweezeldown sat in a corner and cried her eyes out. The even smaller goblin that Jareth had earlier addressed had quickly come to angrily demand Wog remove the costume, but he had merely kicked it off with equal ire. "Don't want King's pants _no how_!" he shouted, and the shot messenger scuttled away when the trousers landed conveniently across his ears to be disposed of.

Bugwit watched the entire territorial display with dispassionate interest, raising a bushy eyebrow at all the pointless snapping and snarling. "Wog," he cautioned, but the little creature just wheeled on him.

"It _him_," he growled, pointing out the Throne Room door. "He one make her sad."

Bugwit pursed his lips a little while Nogtwit threw the jars full of fairies out the windows to crash on the ground. "He King."

"So!" he sputtered, wickedly indignant as his tail flipped back and forth in his agitation. Nogtwit tried to catch it to hold it still to calm him, but he could never get a grip on the slippery little thing. "Maybe he _bad King_."

There was a horrified gasp from all those who listened, and many angry eyes turned on Wog, who was wise enough to realize his mistake; his ears flattened against his head and he made himself very small, as though attempting to burrow into the floor. Sarah was popular, but Jareth was still their King. Bugwit quickly stepped in front of his tiny compadre before anything could come to blows, and it seemed cooler heads prevailed, for soon the goblins were back to attempting to correct their master's throne room.

* * *

Jareth was _laughing _when he put Sarah on the bed-

_Not quite puts, not quite drops, not quite throws her on the bed._

-which was one of the few things she simply could not stand, and her fingers went to his face like claws-

_She squeaks and screams and cries her protest. "Jareth, please! Don't do this, take me home, I want to go home, let me go home!"_

-but he laughed again and seized her wrists in one hand, licking down the soft skin on the inside of her arm and covering it with kisses.

_The Goblin King leans over her on the bed, breathing already very heavy, and gazes deeply into her green eyes. Sarah can't look away, and what's worse, she honestly isn't sure if she feels terrified or desperately aroused at the moment. "Darling," he pleads with her, placing a soft, barely chaste kiss at the hollow of her throat. Sarah whimpers and tilts her head back in spite of herself. "You would leave me all alone? Pining here after you?"_

_"__I-I-"_

"Mmm..." Jareth laced her fingers with his own, not even flinching when she tried to dig her nails through the fabric of his gloves. "You are, truly, the most passionate, the most _intense _woman I have ever known...never change, Sarah."

"Go to hell, Jareth."

"More sweet nothings, my love?" He released one of her hands, and made a twisting motion with his wrist. She recognized the fur-lined manacle that appeared in his palm, and he smirked wickedly at her. "I will hold good to my promise. Just one ankle to start with, I think, though. I think I can handle the rest of your _enthusiasm _myself."

_"__Do you think I would hurt you?" he asks her, drawing closer, and Sarah tries to scoot back, but there's nowhere left to go. She finds that as he leans over her, she presses down, down into the softness of the bed. "No matter what may happen, I will _never _hurt you, my Sarah." And she knows even then and later, no matter how frightening he is...he never does. Which is almost outrageous, because it would make it so much easier to hate him._

Almost on instinct, Sarah's temper cooled considerably when her husband looped the strap around the lower right poster of the bed. It could have been training, but Jareth knew better: there was no taming Sarah, and he liked it that way. Her breathing was labored, partly from her struggles and shouting, and partly because her body was already atingle with anticipation of what would come next, especially as she watched him remove one of his fine gloves – with his teeth. Her pulse quickened. Jareth bent at the waist like a proper, courtly gentleman, and kissed the sharp point of her ankle, sighing over her skin. With deft and ludicrously gentle hands, he lifted the layers of her skirt away from her shapely legs, so he might kiss and stroke them in turns. "So beautiful...I never knew such a beautiful girl would beat the Labyrinth."

"Beauty wasn't the reason," Sarah snapped, but she could feel herself shaking as she watched him stroke the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

Jareth's eyes roamed her body, the heaving of her breast. "Of course not," he smiled with a slightly conservative air, his fingers trailing higher and higher and closer, and- "But did you think I spoke only of your physical beauty? That is but one tiny facet of your radiance." His hand pressed between her thighs and Sarah gasped, her hips arching against his touch in a manner that was completely beyond her control. Damn it, he _did _these things to her-! Jareth's smile merely deepened.

_He leans down to kiss her, and she tries to turn her face, her whole body, away; however, he catches her with just two fingers on her chin and pushes her face back to him. "So shy, my love? You needn't be concerned for your virtue. We'll be married in the morning. There's no reason to hold back."_

_"__S-stop..."_

_"__No." He kisses her, but it's very gently, which is _so confusing_! He's vicious and cold when he steals her from her bedroom, but the way he kisses is so soft, it's like kissing spun sugar, and his mouth just tastes and feels _so good _against her own. Sarah can't help it, she leans into the kiss and whimpers. She can feel Jareth's lips pull into a smile when she parts for a gasp of breath. "Still want me to stop, precious thing?"_

Jareth gently moved his fingers against Sarah as she leaned into his strokes, watching her pant and seeing how the blood rushed to her face – and not just there, if the soft swelling he touched was anything to go by. "Oh, my love..." he sighed, watching the rising and falling of her breast as it struggled against the confines of the gown's bodice. "You don't know what you do to me." He suddenly withdrew his engaged hand, relishing in the needy whimper it elicited from his Sarah, but reached both hands behind her back to unhook the stays of her gown. She wiggled obligingly as he pulled the dress from off her, slipping it over her head and discarding the entire silky thing on one lounge chair. Gods, but she _was _gorgeous, her pale and ivory skin flushed like that, her growing dampness betraying her increasing desire. Making sure she watched each movement he made, Jareth slid the used fingers into his mouth, licking her slowly and deliberately from him. The poor girl moaned and dropped her head back onto a pillow, panting desperately.

_He has her undressed now, and Sarah is terrified. This can't be happening, she's not ready-! She knows in the darkest corner of her heart, she's been dreaming about him like this, dreaming of feeling the hard planes of his body, but not like _this_. She tries to stop him again. "Jareth, _please_. I've never-"_

_He stills above her, and somehow, that increases her fear. "Never...what, precious?" The hungry way he looks at her has only gotten worse._

_Sarah trembles beneath his hands. "Never..."_

_He raises one arched eyebrow at her. "Never?" All she can do is gulp and shake her head. Almost with no warning, Jareth's hand has dipped between her thighs and he has pressed a finger inside of her. Sarah gasps and nearly lifts off the bed – half in pleasure, half in pain – and he is moaning, _hard. "Sarah." _He sounds like he's about to go out of his mind, and Sarah feels sweat and juices drip across her body. He catches the taut peak of her breast in his mouth and she writhes beneath his skillful seductions. "So warm, so _tight_...you mean to say you've been waiting faithfully for me, all this time?" She gasps and trembles. Had she been? Unknowingly? "You precious thing..." he moans and dips his mouth to her other breast, licking and nibbling in turns until she feels sure her body is about to catch on fire. "I am going to be so good to you, I am going to give you everything you want..."_

_She knows it won't work, but it's her only chance. "Let me go home."_

_Jareth stiffens, and slowly his lips pull back so she can feel the sharpness of his smiling teeth against her hot skin. "Well. Everything, except that." He presses another finger within her and she gives a desperate, choked sob of-_

Jareth's eyes shuttered, the deepest, darkest desires of the most hedonist fey running riot through his body. Sarah watched him as he shuddered head to foot – he really could not control himself. The girl had come to a dark satisfaction in these last few weeks: he'd stolen her from her family, he'd stolen her from her innocence, but _she _stole the Goblin King's control, even if all she did was look at him. She had to have something to live on, after all. Jareth was growling, rippling his clothing off his body, like he was nothing but an animal and could not be so restrained. "More," he gave a husky rasp, going on his knees in front of her and holding her thighs apart with his hot palms. "I want more of you." Sarah gasped and shot up as his mouth plundered her, the intense, insistent flicking of his tongue against her making her cry out in perfect agony. "_Sarah_," he groaned into her and softly bit her fleshy thigh, his eyes closing again and tracing the mark with his lips and tongue. "Sweetness, I love you." Each time he separated his mouth from her aching body, he gasped and delivered a desperate declaration. "I am chained to you and I _love it_."

Sarah knotted her fingers into his corn silk hair, struggling to breathe as she ground her hips against him. "Jareth-!"

"_Yes_..." He broke his lips away so he could bring those back to her mouth and pull her close to straddle his hips. With one stray hand, he reached down and removed the manacle's loop from round the bed post. "We are chained to each other now, Sarah..."

As soon as she was freed, Sarah's legs wrapped around him and pulled him in closer to her, and watched him hiss his desperate pleasure. Her eyes drifted from his gaze, to his lips, to the little space that was left between them, back again-

_She wants to say no because she should say no, and she's sure she's afraid-_

_But she has never wanted anything more in her life than she wants this to happen right now._

_And she hates herself for it._

Jareth let all his weight fall forward, so that she was pinned beneath him, and Sarah ran her nails down his back with just enough pressure to watch him fall apart all over again. She wasn't as weak as she'd been before she became the Goblin Queen, and he damn well knew it. This was, possibly, the most messed up relationship in the Underground or Above – but when he filled her, when Sarah arched her back and begged for more-

It tore the reality of the world apart and made it anew. Every single time.

Everything about their time together was _exhausting _with its passion, but a part of Sarah (the part she hated and loved in equal measure) thrived upon it.

* * *

It may seem incredible, but goblins do have wash day. It was a mandate by the Crown, lest the City become as fetid as the Bog. Each quadrant of the city was assigned a different day to appear at the baths and be washed, and the punishment for failing to arrive at the scheduled time was _serious_. If it seems not to do much good, this is only because goblins are so very efficient at becoming filthy again.

Bugwit understood that wash day could be depressing for any self-respecting goblin, but Wog dragged himself along with an extra sadness that would have broken the heart of the meanest of Rock Callers. With concern for his friend, he pulled on one of his long ears, but Wog barely even flicked his boarish tail. He tried pulling that, instead, but the response was much the same. "Wog..." he whined, while Nogtwit pulled vines and crawlers off the nearby wall, giggling all the while.

"Wut," he muttered, eyes downcast and for all the world the lowest little goblin in the Underground.

"It get better," he tried to reassure him, scratching at his tuft of black hair that would soon be scrubbed to a disgusting, glossy sheen, but Wog simply shook his wrinkly face.

"No. It no get better."

"It do!" he assured, pulling harder on his ears. "We try new present?"

"What point!" Wog sighed with exaggerated exasperation, throwing his tiny, thin arms into the air. "King just break, or throw out window, or put in Bog! Queen be sad _forever_!"

"...we find new way." Bugwit's temper ran out for Nogtwit's incessant giggling, and he snapped at him, "Nogtwit!"

"_What_," he whined, puce eyes wide and wet with feigned innocence.

"What you do!"

"Nuttin'!" and his grubby hands quickly disappeared behind his back.

Bugwit was growing cross, and he stamped a cloven hoof on the ground in obvious impatience. "You show Bugwit."

"But-"

"You show Bugwit _now_, Nogtwit!"

With a forlorn sigh, Nogtwit revealed his private collection from round his back: an assortment of colorful feathers, lost pieces of string, particularly bendy twigs, and the rare vine flower. It was all woven together in a fairly complex looking loop, and it rather gave the impression of looking like a-

Wog's eyes lit up. "That it!"

Bugwit and Nogtwit both blinked at him. "What it?"

"Come, come, we go now!" Grabbing the wrist of one of his companions in either hand, he began to pull them off in the direction of the Castle, but both sets of feet dug _firmly _into the soft ground.

"Wog," Bugwit scolded in a dangerous, low growl. "You take us back to Castle?"

"Yes."

"Do something make King mad again?"

"...maybe."

"_Before _we do wash?"

"..." After a moment, he released their wrists. Bugwit made an eloquent point: it would be one thing to incite the ire of the King. It would be quite another to do so while also flaunting one of his most important proclamations.

* * *

Sarah had come to investigate the Throne Room, to see if any permanent damage had been done after the goblins' production. For their sake, she was relieved there had been no irreparable harm, and she picked up a stray chicken that had once again wandered into forbidden territory. Sarah was getting better at handling livestock, she mused to herself. She'd never had much experience with chickens before, and she generally thought they were kind of smelly in the flesh (er, in the feathers). But when she had complained to Jareth, he gave her free reign to institute a new hygiene policy for the poultry, and the goblins had done as she asked with great enthusiasm. They certainly cleaned their chickens better than they cleaned themselves. The odor wasn't nearly so pungent or unpleasant now, and considerably fewer of the black birds roamed the halls of the Castle.

The Goblin Queen snorted to herself, setting the chicken down on a nearby balcony. "Free reign," from Jareth. Just a meaningless task to keep her occupied, that's all it was. Why did he even marry her? Because the Labyrinth mandated it? Her title was meaningless. She'd had more power as a teenage girl than she had as a Queen. The Underground needed a strong women's rights movement, and it needed one _now_.

The girl was spared her self-pitying melancholy when her ears picked up a soft sound skipping up the great stone steps toward the Throne Room; toward her.

"_Majesty_!" The cry was distant, but it was plaintive, and Sarah leaned on the tips of her toes with interest. "_Queen_!" Before she could investigate the sound, the massive doors to the Throne Room were pushed open with great effort – by Bugwit, Nogtwit and Wog.

"Guys?" she asked, her brow furrowed with confusion. "Is something wrong?"

They came skidding to a halt in front of her, falling to their knees – but it was at least partly because they were out of breath, as well as deference to her station. Before Sarah could ask more questions, Wog raised his thin hands to her, gasping for air and clearly making her an offering.

It was a...a crown. It was all twigs and feathers and tracings of beautiful, green vines, but each thread and bauble had clearly been cleaned with more meticulous care than the goblins even showed themselves. Each curl, each leaf was so carefully placed – and it was all _for her_.

Sarah thought she was going to cry.

"Wog..." she gasped, reaching out her delicate, shaking hands to accept her dearest gift. "Oh, Bugwit, Nogtwit...you guys, how can I _thank _you-"

"_What _is going on in here now?" The Goblin King was leaning in the doorway, his pale and flashing eyes narrowed dangerously. Sarah quickly grabbed for her crown, Nogtwit took off and was hiding behind a molding tapestry. "The Court hours most distinctly do not start until thirteen in the afternoon."

Cautiously, Sarah stepped in front of the goblins, who looked up at her with pleading eyes. "We're just talking."

"_Talking_?" Jareth sounded somewhere between incredulous and amused, walking into his Throne Room with a most definite swagger in his hips. He raked his eyes up and down the body of his Queen and Sarah shivered beneath his stare. "You'll find them a trifle dull for conversation, Sarah." With a confident smirk, he stopped before her, resting one gloved finger on her soft cheek. "You'd find your time much more..._nicely _occupied with me."

Her eyes were downcast. "I just-"

He followed her looks – noticed the crown. "What _is _that disgusting bird's nest you're holding?"

"Not nest!" Wog piped up from behind Sarah's calf. "It crown!" Bugwit elbowed him, hard, but Wog merely grumbled and rubbed his ribs.

"You think _that _is a crown?" Jareth sneered. "For _her_? You pathetic little mongrels. That is not suitable for _her_. Watch closely." And as he spoke, the King twisted his wrist in an easy motion, features carefully schooled with bored indifference; the most perfect silver and gold diadem balanced lightly on his fingertips, the crest of it matching the form of his pendant. It was shimmering and beautiful, and he smiled with a cool satisfaction to see it. "_Much_ better. Now, my Sarah, I'll just take this little-"

"_No_!"

The shriek that broke from Sarah's lips as Jareth reached for her shabby crown rang in the emptiness of the Throne Room. It actually shocked him. Bugwit and Wog stared at her, Nogtwit fell down from his position behind the tapestry.

Her green eyes were wild with fire, and she clutched her gift to her breast, her shoulders angling away from her husband and absolutely _refusing _to let him near it. "It's mine, it's not yours, you _can't have it_!"

Normally, Sarah raising her voice to the King in even a fraction of the way she just had would have meant he transported them both to an oubliette, not to return for several hours, and with the girl much quieter afterward – for _days _afterward. However, the Fey Lord was actually so startled, he could only blink at her for a moment, before setting his mouth in a firm scowl and scolding, "Now, see here, Sarah-"

"_Shut up_!" Nogtwit squeaked and tried to crawl up the stone walls. "It's _my _crown, _they _gave it to me! It makes me Queen of the Goblins!"

Jareth was becoming cross now. "You're already Queen of the Goblins, you silly little twit."

"No," she snarled at him, taking a firm step forward – and the _King _stepped back. "_You _wouldn't let me be. For all the trust you give me, I might as well be your...your..._concubine_!" Jareth seemed very taken aback by this upbraiding. Wog turned to Bugwit to ask what that word meant, but the bigger goblin cut him off with a swipe of his hand across the line of his throat. "Well, _they _want me to be their Queen, understand?" she continued, head held high, voice entirely certain. "_And I'm going to be_." Without a second's hesitation, Sarah brought the crown down atop her silken head-

And never did man nor fey look more regal, even if he were to be crowned with the purest platinum, and dripping the finest ermine. Sarah beat them _all_.

It was then that the Goblin King did a very funny thing, a thing he had never done in over thirteen hundred years of life in the Underground: he dropped to his knees before the slip of a girl, bowed his head in submission, and kissed her ringed fingers in absolute _worship_.

"_Yes_, my Queen," he breathed over her soft hands, while the goblins looked at one another in total confusion. Nogtwit came out of hiding, but felt no better for it, because he was pretty sure the world was ending if his King were on his knees – and before a woman. "_Oh yes, Sarah_!" The King rose to his booted feet, a possessive fire glinting in his unreal eyes. Sarah looked up at him – nervously, for a moment, and then with a far greater understanding. She smiled a little. "Come, come here." With the greatest of gentleness, he wrapped his hands around her elbows and guided her carefully back to the waiting throne, sitting her down upon it and kneeling before her again. "My Lady, how might you be served?" He picked up her little foot and kissed the top of it, kissed her ankles and her shins. He began to pull up the hem of her skirt and kiss his way past her knees-

"Jareth," she gasped through her teeth. "The goblins."

The King flicked his eyes up at her, and turned his head. Yes, those three morons were definitely still standing there. Staring. "Leave us," Jareth commanded with his usual haughty air.

"No, wait!" Sarah stretched out a hand, and three pairs of little eyes lit up with interest. "Wog...come here." Cautiously, but with great enthusiasm, the little goblin scampered over to his waiting Queen and sat at the foot of the throne, looking up at her with a great deal of respect and admiration. Sarah smiled with the gentleness that had won her all her victories in the Underground, and lay her soft palm against the creature's wrinkled face. "I love my crown, Wog." His tail began to wag hard against the flagstones. "But it's so fragile, I'm worried I might break it. Would it be alright if I kept it in my room, behind glass? So it's safe? I...I want to have it forever."

Wog sighed like a lovestruck simpleton. "Whatever Queen wants."

Sarah smiled that winning smile again and pet his face. "Thank you." She glanced down at her husband, who still hand his hands firmly wrapped about her legs and with a _very _possessive glint in his cold eyes, and raised an eyebrow to her most loyal subject. "You guys had better hurry along now."

Bugwit, Nogtwit and Wog were out of the Throne Room like a shot, and Wog's tail wagged with such speed and enthusiasm, it nearly became his own self-propulsion system. The roaring success of the crown, the creation of a true queen in the Underground, was going to be proclaimed far and wide that evening. Along with it, Bugwit was also going to dig his friend in the ribs with his elbow and mock in a nasally voice, "'Whatever Queen wants!'"

"You just jealous," Wog would reply, thin nose in the air. "Cause you no got _petted_."

"Not!" Bugwit would then sneer. "I gonna go do loud time with Tweezledown!"

"Nu uh!"

"Yeah huh!"

Nogtwit would go back to happily and peacefully collecting pieces of string that lay abandoned in the rumpus room.

For their part, the King and Queen of the Goblin Kingdom were still in the Throne Room, completely unaware of what raucous celebrations were to be had by their subjects that night. Jareth had his chin set upon her knee and he stroked along the outside of her hips and down her thighs with the tips of two of his gloved fingers. "That was most magnanimously done, precious."

"You think so?" Sarah flicked her hair back. "I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. Anyway, I'm ready for my present now."

"Are you?" he teased, planting an adoring kiss on the top of her leg. "Are you actually going to be _grateful _when I give it to you?"

"Don't push your luck, Goblin King," Sarah scoffed, but she wound her fingers through his silver-gold hair anyway. "You're stuck with me forever, just remember that."

"Not long at all, Goblin Queen," he purred, and he lifted up the diadem to slide it over her brow. Sarah leaned obligingly forward, and he kissed the tips of her fingers when he had finished. "My fealty to you forever, my Queen." He slid his head forward so that it rested in her lap with the more-than-contended sigh of a man in rapture.

Sarah ran her fingers down his back. "You know," she whispered, and he twitched deliciously at the sound of her voice. "Just a thought, but what if we traded off who wore that manacle from time to time, hm?"

Before the girl could blink, she found she was no longer sitting on the throne, but rather the vast and plush bed she shared with her husband. Jareth was twirling the fur-lined contraption on his finger, already missing his gloves – among other items of clothing. "Do tell, precious thing."

**The End**

* * *

A.N.: Okay, you guys are allowed to bug about updates on this one, because honestly, there will probably be more. Apparently when you take Slightly Evil Jareth out to play, he doesn't like to go nicely back in his box. A big thanks to Mztlynne for all her help on this one and for the betaing. Just to keep you guys abreast of what I'm doing:

Started the next part of "Say When," but that got way-laid because of this and because-

Working on a crossover with Chet, and of course it's Labyrinth. That's about half way done. When that's done, I'll be uploading in bits and pieces, and hopefully my attention can go back to "Say When." Skipping around on fics has gotten me into trouble before, but Laby so completely blows up my brain with ideas I don't know what else to do. It's wonderful and terrible at the same time.

"Labyrinth" is the property of its creators, no money is being made, etc., but I do happily lay claim to Bugwit, Nogtwit, Wog and Tweezledown, and there will be yet more goblin personalities if and when this continues. Ah, the blessed curse that is my life.


	2. The Snow King

A.N.: Mzylynne and I kicked serious ass coming up with a plot line for this "episode," and damn if we don't deserve some serious high fives. Warnings: a little more sexy times, a little less goblins, a lot more Sarah being a bad ass action chick. Is anyone complaining?

Also, the time line on this is...really unclear. It starts sometime during the influx of bananas into the Underground, there will be references to the ending of the last chapter, so it goes on after that, but otherwise...I have no idea. Maybe I'm over-thinking this.

Winter Queen gets her name from the recent (ish) Narnia films; I haven't seen them, I rock it old school with the books and 60s cartoon, but her name comes up in "Girl's Next Door" as Jareth's mom, and while she's certainly not that here, I thought, "What the hey." I also admit I thought of her as looking a little like Elsa from "Frozen." I'm sorry...

I really hope this isn't too much fey B.S. If it IS too much fey for your tastes (and I really can't blame you) skim for the sexy bits and stick around for the next chapter, because it's about ten times better, scout's honor.

(Next chapter of Say When should hopefully be up this week. I wrote this months ago, it just finished getting betad, so give me some time, guys.)

**The Snow King**

"Come, Sarah, you must be ready by now. After all those bananas you had to practice on?"

Queen Sarah was biting her red lip, looking away. The King her husband had set her on her knees, on a plush pillow of damask silk. "I-I don't want to."

Jareth had removed the glove from his right hand, and it was with naked fingers that he touched her chin and tilted it toward him. "Don't be contrary, darling." Sarah just closed her eyes and shook her head as best as his grip allowed her to. Jareth huffed. "After I've been _so generous _in my pleasure of you? Really?"

"It's _terrible_," she squeaked, small hands fisted at her knees. "I hate it."

The Goblin King smirked a little with his thin, pale lips. "Hate which? What I do to you?" Sarah nodded, eyes still closed tight. "Now, I know that you're lying, and I don't appreciate it when you lie to me, _Sarah_."

Sarah was eighteen. She had been eighteen for only two and a half months. She was a _child_, and she actually had tears in her green eyes when she at last opened them. "_Please_." She was begging, and it was almost enough to move the King. She was so alluring when she was simpering like that... "Don't make me do this..."

"You need to calm down, Sarah." Jareth ran his fingers from her chin down the line of her white throat, making her tilt her head up and swallow in the process. He could feel the movement of her throat beneath his fingertips and it made him shudder a little in desire. "You are making mountains out of molehills. This is nothing – and you _will _enjoy it. Don't you know how greatly I enjoy the taste and feel of _you_ on my lips?"

"No." The poor girl was a mess, and she closed her eyes tightly and shook her head again. "No, no, no, _no, no_."

His mouth pursed a little; she was decidedly less alluring when she did that. "Stop that, Sarah." The Goblin Queen made to stand, but Jareth's firm, hard hand on her shoulder kept her down. "You're acting like a spoiled child."

"Good!" Sarah's eyes snapped open, hot and green when she fixed them on his scowling face. "I'm _glad_, because that makes what you're doing to me even _worse_."

Jareth could not repress a bit of a snarl at that. "_Worse_? Was I not a patient man? Did I not wait until you came of age?"

"You _kidnapped _me from my bedroom!"

"You already know the rules. The Labyrinth chose you for its Queen. What was I to do? Do you think _I _wanted you?"

"If you didn't want me, then _don't do this_." The pleading note was back in her voice, more quavering, more the frightened child.

It made the Goblin King sigh, smoothing his gloved left hand over her soft cheek. "But beautiful girl..." he purred, brushing a lock of her dark hair behind her ear; silky, like chocolate, and he intended to knot his hands into its richness and hold her to him while she- "How am I to argue with the Labyrinth? Its power and wisdom are far older than my own. It knew what was best." He leaned down and placed a distressingly tender kiss along the bridge of her nose. "_We were made for one another_."

"I will go out of my _mind_," Sarah hissed, jerking her head away from his lips, "before I believe that."

The King's eye twitched slightly. "Fine – but go out of your mind with love for me." When she made to pull away again, his left hand held her ear, so that she yelped a bit at the tug there. "No respite here, Sarah. I've been more than generous in waiting for you."

"_Generous_!" she spat, her least favorite word when it came from his mouth.

"_I want this_."

"I want you, to...to-" she searched for the right punishment. "Die in a fire, to fall off a cliff!"

Jareth laughed, combing his fingers through her hair more gently then. "There's my little spitfire...Always so passionate."

"Can't you understand how horrible this is to me!"

"No," he replied simply, with a very light shrug of his shoulders. "I really cannot. I promise you this, your mother performed these rights for your father, and she _loved _it." The disgust across Sarah's face was clear, and it was highly amusing. Mortals were so prudish when it came to their relatives' sexuality. "And you will, too; it _is _pleasure to give pleasure."

"Jareth, _please_!" She moved her hands from her lap to grab him around the hips, her fingers digging into the tight cloth of his breeches. She meant it to be beseeching, it only succeeded in arousing him utterly. His Sarah could never be more beautiful than on her knees begging him, even with tears clinging to her dark lashes.

"No more words, precious thing." His voice was husky with desire as he ran his naked thumb over her delicious, red lips. "Open your mouth." At his touch, they parted automatically, on instinct, and he tried hard to repress his excited grin. "There's a good girl...And remember, it's always polite to swallow what you're given." Jareth held her chin as he guided himself into her; he didn't want her to pull away, and he didn't want her to be scared off. He was actually quite proud of his gentleness. Did he not pet her hair and tell her how well she was doing? Did he not give soft instructions and murmured encouragements? And when it did come time to move a little deeper, a little faster, didn't he also warn her, "Loosen your throat, little one. Relax, I don't want you to choke." The girl had _no idea _how lucky she was to have such a gallant man for husband. And by now, she knew what his stamina was, she knew he could have restrained himself and extended his pleasure until her lips grew numb from effort, but he didn't. No, he ended the moment quickly, with shuddering and spasming muscles, holding her head close to his body because he wanted to feel her heat, he wanted to see the way her eyes closed as she accepted what he had to offer. _Beautiful_. It was like his soul being pulled from his body mid-orgasm. She was absolutely _gorgeous_.

It was for this reason his chemical-induced calm faded so quickly, something else which irritated him. The Goblin King had wanted to bask in the haze of his pleasures, perhaps murmur praises to the girl who had given it to him, and otherwise be tender and adoring – but stubborn, _foolish _Sarah did not allow for this. As soon as she had choked him down, as soon as he had withdrawn from her, she scrambled to a corner, wrapped her arms around herself, and shivered desperately. She didn't need to act like he'd done something _atrocious_, it spoiled the moment for him, that selfish little girl!

"Sarah." His voice was a little snappish, but he could hardly be blamed for that. "Come here." She shook her head, the dark locks floating softly side to side, and would not turn around. "Come _here_, Sarah."

"_No_." She was shivering uncontrollably, and he thought he could hear the sound of tears choking her speech. Damn it, she just always had to ruin things for him, the impudent little creature.

She had no idea how well he controlled his temper, she really did not. Quietly, he crossed to her and lay his hands across her shoulders. She winced at the touch, and this irked him further, but he suppressed it. "Goblin Queen..." he purred, and grew more irate to see her shudder in disgust at this address. "What could trouble that pretty head of yours?"

"Look what you've _made _me," she sobbed, tears starting to slip down her cheeks as she covered her face with her hands.

Jareth blinked a little. "What _I've _made you?" She nodded, and he turned her around. Sarah was struggling to stop her tears, but they slipped down her round, flushed cheeks anyway. Women... "Sarah," he instructed her, holding onto his calm with the last redoubt of his self-control. "When you were in the Aboveground, did you not dream of having a strong, devoted husband? A handsome one who would give you everything you ever wanted?"

Sarah's brow furrowed, her red-rimmed eyes scrunched at the corners, confused in this change in conversation. "Y-yes?" she hesitated.

Jareth purred, smoothing his thumb along her chin and jaw. "Do you not have a strong husband, one who is devoted to your well being?"

She looked almost appalled. "You-"

"Have you been given every jewel, every book, every dress, every _bauble _your heart could possibly desire."

"That's _not_-"

He grinned now, pressing his face close to hers so their lips were tantalizingly close to touching. Jareth almost felt compelled to close even that distance, to see how well he tasted on her ruby mouth. "And am I not handsome?"

Sarah's eyes closed, she swallowed hard. "_Very _handsome..."

"Good girl..." He brought both hands to the crown of her hair and pet in long, soft, luxuriating strokes. "What, then, could be the matter?"

Her eyes opened again, able to meet his and looking like she might break apart under his hands. It was...distressing. "You _really _don't understand what you've done to me?"

Jareth chuckled a little, lowering his mouth to the crook of her neck and shoulder, and worried the spot there. "Oh, I have very clear memories of _that_..." Sarah gulped, but otherwise did not react, which was even more annoying than when she rallied against him – for at least then, she _did _something. The King growled a little. "_What is it_."

"Don't you _see_?" She was trying not to cry, but the tears were slipping down her face regardless. "I wasn't like this before, I-I was a...a _good _girl. I never wanted this, so if I enjoy any of it now, what does that say about me? Now you've just made me some kind of...kind of s-"

The Goblin King silenced her with one bare finger on her red lips. The cold outrage was clear in his pale, mismatched eyes, and she began to tremble again. "Has someone called you this?"

Sarah hesitated, looking confused and shaking still. "N-no..."

"If they have, I will kill them. I will tear their limbs off and feed them their own intestines."

She shrank back against the wall a little, horrified or terrified, of him or of his threats. "That's disgusting."

"_Has anyone said this to you_?"

"No," she said more firmly, drawing back against the wall and turning her face away, eyes closed.

Ah. Just herself then. Jareth withdrew his hand and left his finger to tap at the point of his chin thoughtfully. It was possible he had made a...mistake in pursuing this physical a relationship with his bride. Sarah had barely made it to second base by the time she turned eighteen, always proud that she put her family and her schooling ahead of her hormones and desperate, pawing boys. She used to think this had made her smarter than many a girl at school, but now she often wondered if she'd have been better served preparing herself for life with the Goblin King if _this _was to be her fate. In his own way, Jareth knew this: he knew how chaste and pure she had been, and it had been almost _painfully _arousing both then and now. He wanted to be the one to teach her all the pleasures of the flesh, to claim her innocence in desperate, delicious passion. However...Sarah went from untouched to a _highly _sexual relationship in the course of one night. To say it was intense was perhaps an understatement, it was almost _violently _sexual. And she was young, too young to understand the transition, too young to see it as anything other than traumatizing. It was possible the Goblin King had been in error to simply indulge himself in her body whenever he saw fit, despite painting his conduct as that of a gentleman lover with rights as her husband. If he had been wrong, however, he was the last person in either world who would admit to it.

He would try a different tact, in which case. "_Sarah_." His voice was that smooth, tenor purr that always crept beneath her skin to stay there, the voice he used to sing to her and seduce her completely and against her will. "Precious thing. Come to me." She stayed against the wall and shivered, and he pulled her closer with just the tips of his fingers at her shoulder. "You think you are some loose girl? You're a married woman, Sarah." He held her so that her head was pillowed against his chest. He felt her flutters and shivers under his hand like a tiny bird beating its wings against a cage. So delicate...the slightest wrong move, and he could snap her in two. It made her that much more alluring, like a piece of thin bone china. "You have had no man but your husband. Surely married women are allowed to enjoy the pleasures of matrimony, are they not? Surely they are allowed _some _satisfaction?"

"It's terrible..." He could feel her snuffling against him, and wondered if she was sobbing again. Her teeth bit against the button of his shirt in an effort to stop herself. "I used to be good, I used to..."

"Shh..." He soothed her carefully, running his hands up and down her back. "You _are _good. You are more than good." He nuzzled her hair and breathed in the perfume there and felt himself becoming hardened again. "You bring pleasure to your husband. That is your duty, as a wife. _Revel _in it. Accept it. It will be so much easier, so much _better _when you do..."

"N-no..." Ah, Sarah. She always had to fight him. It didn't matter, it actually set him to throbbing for her. He pulled her taut against him and heard the gasp in her voice when she noticed him.

"I will show you how good you are, Sarah mine, my girl..." She didn't fight him when he lifted her up this time, though the terror had not left her eyes. Jareth smirked; it didn't matter. He had seen that look of terror melt into aching desire a hundred times since he'd taken her to wife. The build up to that moment was half the fun.

* * *

Boltsneeze was in a bit of a panic. He usually was. His small, torn wings beat at a terrified rate, though they only let him hover a few inches off the ground. The long point of his nose was quivering with his rapid intakes of breath. He whimpered and trembled as he tore through the halls of the Castle, crashing into his fellows playing in the Throne Room.

"Boltsneeze..." Wog was grumbling at him, on his back and with a wad of garbage in his paw. He had been lazily tossing it back and forth with his companions, waiting for the start of another day in the Goblin Court, before the game was so rudely interrupted by the King's goblin majordomo.

Boltsneeze fluttered to the curve of the empty throne, utterly distressed. "King still no here?"

Bugwit looked up at the thirteen-houred clock hanging on the wall and shook his head; it was only about nine. "No here."

"Then where!"

Tweezledown was combing her claws through the feathers of her blackest hen, grooming the bird in the way Queen Sarah had instructed to maintain some order of cleanliness in the castle. "In _bedroom_." Boltsneeze made to take off in that direction, and she quickly caught him by his forked tail and hauled him back to the dirt strewn floor. "You can't go in!"

"But-"

Nogtwit giggled like a disturbing doll, collecting the feathers discarded by Tweezledown in her grooming. "Loud time," he chittered, and goblin eyes across the room glazed over with unfamiliar instinct.

"But _Snow King _here," Boltsneeze hissed with desperation. This surprised the various goblins littering the Throne Room, enough so that Tweezledown actually released the poor creature. It was unusual for a visiting monarch to surprise them, unannounced. If other fey members of royalty did visit the Goblin Kingdom, it was usually well known beforehand, and the goblins were put to work straightening out the mess they created. If that were not the case, they came for a pre-established reason, like the Midsummer Ball two months before, and the goblins were given ale in the City to celebrate and told, in general terms, to just stay out of the way and not to make nuisances of themselves. So for another fey king to arrive, with no forewarning, was _highly _peculiar.

Bugwit carefully examined the Throne Room, seeing only his fellow goblins. "Where Snow King?"

"In west parlor," Boltsneeze sniffed with regal haughtiness. Boltsneeze was one of the only goblins who referred to every room in the Castle by its proper name, and one of the very few who knew them all. Where Wog and his compatriots might give directions to "the red one," or "the room with the water," or "room where blood feels all tingly," Boltsneeze could intimately describe aspects of the billiard room, or the indoor spa, or the baroreceptor chamber (which was, naturally, a room for the excitement of baroreceptors).

"Which room west parlor?" Wog whispered to Bugwit, his ball of trash forgotten.

"I think that blue one."

"Must wake King!" Boltsneeze was off again, while sympathetic little goblin eyes followed his retreat. Poor fool, did he not know that – if he and the Queen were engaged in loud time – the King was already wide awake?

Poor Boltsneeze was so unappreciated in his work, though he never complained. Few goblins could be more loyal to their King than he was. He polished the man's boots when he had to sit in bored audience to the capers of his subjects during Court hours; he did his best to anticipate his Liege's needs or desires – tea in the morning, brandy at night, and anything at all in between; and while it was older, wiser, better made goblins and Lesser Fey who allowed the Castle to run as smoothly as it did, it was Boltsneeze who oversaw the needs of the goblins who lived in or near there, and he that kept them out of as much mischief as he possibly could. It was an extremely thankless job, but he did it out of love.

So this was why he didn't particularly _want _to knock at his master's door and disturb him in his rooms: there were strict rules about such things. Goblins almost never went in His Majesty's chambers, and even then were usually only allowed when summoned. Boltsneeze would be interrupting the King during his private hours, and during his _private time _with his Queen. No, Boltsneeze didn't _want _to do this – he was devoted, but he was also a bit of a coward. But what choice had he? If the Winter King was waiting for an audience, he'd _have _to tell the Goblin King.

So Boltsneeze knocked – but he didn't really wait for a response. He could hear a growl from within the chamber, but that wasn't even necessarily thrown in his direction. Most likely, the interruption was being ignored. Rather than standing there stupidly for permission that would not come, Boltsneeze knocked, and then cracked the door open anyway. "Majesty?"

"_What_?" The King was most definitely busy. And Nogtwit had been correct, it was loud time for sure, the noises only becoming more intense now that the door was open. A thin silk sheet covered His Majesty from the hips downward, and his body covered the Goblin Queen below him; the outline of her slender legs could be seen locked around his hips beneath the gauzy silk. Any noises of an encouraging nature on her part, however, had quickly been stifled at Boltsneeze's entrance. However...the King was ignoring the interruption and continuing right along as if he had no audience.

"Jareth, stop!" It was almost a shriek, she was trying desperately to shove her lord and husband from off of her.

"If you think I'm stopping just because of this, you really have gone out of your mind."

"You are _humiliating _me!" Ah, the Goblin Queen. While Wog and his ilk simply adored the air she breathed (not entirely unlike their King), Boltsneeze was a little more ambivalent about her. For one thing, he thought it highly inappropriate that the girl wasn't sodden with love for their monarch, which is what King Jareth so clearly deserved. And yes, she was nice enough, that much was perfectly clear, but she was only a girl. Until she was producing Goblin Heirs, how much use for her could there really be?

"Majesty..." Boltsneeze squeaked in a pathetic, high pitch. "_Snow King _here."

"What?"

"Get off, get off, get-"

"_Snow King_," Boltsneeze repeated, shrinking back in the doorway.

Jareth's thrusts slowed ever so slightly as he seemed to pause in thought. It did not help Sarah in removing him from her body, but realistically, there was little chance of that happening, and she knew it. She even had her lips parted to pant with the exertion he was putting her through. "...Entertain him in some room until the Goblin Queen and I are ready to receive him." Jareth started his motions right back up again, and while Sarah tried to protest, it came out as something of a moan, so it was rather ineffectual. "Bastard really knows better than to show up unannounced anyway..."

Boltsneeze gulped. "Soon, Majesty?"

Jareth was not looking at his goblin servant, instead grinning lecherously down at his bride. "That depends entirely on the Goblin Queen." He slid a thumb into her mouth and canted his hips to try her at another angle. "What do you think, precious thing? Soon?" The poor girl merely whimpered, and Boltsneeze ran from the doorway in order to do as he was told.

* * *

"The Snow King," was not the correct title for Tothian of the Winter Kingdom. It was actually an address that rather irked him. Snow was but one tiny facet of the power of the cold; it was true snow could be grand and horrible and deadly, but it was mostly imagined as white, powdery, pillowy flakes of beauty. He did not want to be thought of in that way. He wanted both himself and his domain to be feared and respected – the way any harsh winter would be. Snow King indeed...Tothian was the Winter King. It was much grander than that.

Tothian also didn't particularly appreciate being left in the west parlor, one of the smaller rooms that faced a tiny stone courtyard with a tiny, trickling fountain. There was not much in this parlor, but a powder blue settee, a mancala table, and a hammered copper bowl sat atop a marble end table, the bowl being filled with bright, white peaches. Their soft, fuzz covered skins glistened in the dazzling light of the late summer morning, and Tothian thought they looked _revolting_. But then again, he didn't like peaches.

It was cheeky of Jareth to leave a fellow monarch just waiting in a disused parlor, but Tothian couldn't really be _angered _by the slight. His intentions had been less than pure, hoping to catch the man off his guard and therefore have the upper hand in this confrontation. But Jareth was that ever tricksy Goblin King; oh, all fey were clever, there was no doubt about that. Jareth had a mind of deviations that was positively _monstrous_. The man could think, talk and act circles around even the smartest fey in the Underground. No, Jareth had found a way to put him off. If Tothian was going to be rude enough to show up unannounced, then what could he expect? The Goblin King had to make himself _presentable _for his guest, after all.

It was some time before that ratty little goblin returned to guide him to his master. Goblins as servants, it was disgusting! They were grubby, drooling, vicious little baby stealers. How Jareth could maintain any dignity when he was the king of buffoons was quite beyond him. The halls of the Castle were strewn with dust and chicken and vulture feathers. The Castle of the Winter Kingdom was a glittering palace of thin ice walls that shimmered and reflected every possible angle of light, with well-behaved snow elves for his serving staff. But, Tothian bitterly reflected, what the Goblin Kingdom lacked in style, it made up for...absurdly...in its power.

And Jareth would never let anyone forget it. Tothian meditated on this point as he was led to the grand dining hall and its huge doors were pulled open; Jareth was more than King of the Goblins, he was the King of Dreams, the overseer of the Labyrinth, and it was to their peril that any man – fey or mortal – looked on that twisting hell lightly. In contrast, the dining hall was brightly lit this morning with natural sunlight; it looked an open and inviting space, very tall and wide. A long table of mahogany dominated the center of the room, though its only occupants sat at the far left: the King at the head of the table, the Queen to his right. They were in the middle of the morning meal, it seemed, by the dishes crowded near them, and Tothian was quietly announced by the squeaky goblin as he entered.

"Ah, Tothian!" Jareth smiled as the Winter King entered, but did not rise from his seat. The young girl (_that _slip of a thing was a Queen?) craned her neck around her high-backed chair in order to get a good view of him, and seemed confused on whether she should rise or not. "Would you care to join us this morning, on your surprise visit?" Jareth raised his teacup to his lips and smirked over it with flashing, dangerous and sharp teeth.

"Thank you, Jareth," the Winter King replied, coming to a stop near his host with his hands tucked behind his back. "But I ate before departing. It seems I keep earlier hours than you do?"

"I was not expecting company, Tothian." Jareth leaned back in his chair, sprawling his lithe limbs. The man had the uncanny ability to look like a cat, all thin angles and narrow form. "I am still in my honeymoon. You must expect lazier days in such a time. Done with your breakfast, Sarah?" The girl to the right was blushing a little. Blushing? _This _was the Champion of the Labyrinth, _this _the Goblin Queen? She was just a little mortal chit! Things were far worse than he had feared. The creature Sarah nodded, and Jareth extended his hand to help her rise. "Let us go to the Throne Room, then, if we're to hold an audience."

"And here I thought I was visiting as an old friend."

"How _did _you come to that conclusion?"

"I must say, Jareth." Tothian fell in to the man's left, striding along easily to match his pace as he watched him keep the girl Sarah firmly at his hand; did he think she'd run off? "I never expected you to be the marrying kind, Goblin King or not."

"Oh no," Jareth was smirking, running his eyes over his bride as the doors to his Throne Room were pulled open before him. "I find married life agrees with me _exceedingly _well. It's all in finding the right partner – and my Sarah is _delicious_." He suddenly pulled her close to him, and Tothian could swear he heard her squeak as her husband sank his mouth to the curve of her neck. "In _every _sense."

"Jareth," she was hissing, wiggling in his arms. "You're _embarrassing_ me."

No sooner had they walked in, but the dozen or so goblins that had been waiting for the Court to open flocked about her, a horde of ugly little faces crying, "Queen, Queen, Queen!"

The Goblin Queen – gods, how could _that _be the Goblin Queen – smiled widely to be greeted by her subjects, the first smile the Winter King had seen cross her face. It wasn't that she was unattractive. He supposed by mortal standards she was actually rather fine, with the kind of beauty that set her apart from the fey, all round curves and dark hair. But even so, that was no reason to go and make a Queen out of her! Queens had responsibilities, they had standards to maintain. This _Sarah _was not maintaining them by a long shot, from what he could tell.

"Good morning, boys!" She greeted those grubby goblins rather warmly, stopping to pet each face, inquire after each family, and even knew each name. Tothian was very sure Jareth didn't bother himself with the names of his subjects. The man was going to allow the whole Underground to come to ruin due to his infatuation with a _girl_, one unraveled thread at a time. It was humiliating, he ought to be ashamed of himself. Instead, he just watched his wife as she spoke to the goblins, smiling quietly to himself all the while.

"Well, Tothian, did your visit today have a purpose?" the Goblin King asked him while Sarah busied herself with her subjects. "Or did you come to simply satisfy your curiosity?"

"How you do paint me as the villain, Jareth. I came to present myself to your wife." Sarah's head swiveled in his direction, surprise written openly on her face. "Since I did not have the privilege to do so at your Midsummer Ball."

"I _did _invite you, Tothian, you can't say I wasn't at least inclusive."

"Hm. Quite."

"Why couldn't you come?" Sarah asked, carrying Nogtwit in her arms.

Tothian's mouth twitched in a grimace. "Summer tends to make me rather ill."

Sarah thought a moment, looking to her husband for clarification. "The Winter King," he said, rolling his hand toward her in a gesture meant to convey she was to continue the thought.

"Your magic is...hurt during the summer time?"

"Outside of my kingdom, the high point of summer is...distressing to me, yes."

"Is there any time that does that to _you_, Jareth?" Sarah asked, running her finger down the coil of Nogtwit's horn.

"Hm," Jareth chuckled, tucking a finger underneath his wife's chin. "Consider yourself fortunate there is not, pet, for you'd be just as effected."

"I'm not magical," she quickly retorted, and pulled away, and it made Tothian's cold blue eyes light up a bit.

"I heard it was a marvelous party," the Winter King was continuing in all politeness and warmth. "With a most...unusual dessert?" Jareth scowled at him. Tothian pressed on. "And I heard your manners were appalling, dear Jareth! Eradmol told me you danced the _entire _night with your wife."

Jareth looked to Sarah as if he expected an answer from her. Her shoulders and chin picked up slightly, she smiled in a mildly proud way. "The King of the Trolls, I remember."

"Very good..." her husband purred to her. Tothian tried to hide his disgust; what kind of Queen was this, that she had to be taught who the key players of the Underground were? _Why _had Jareth deigned to marry her? No time to question that, though, as the Goblin King was responding to Tothian's point. "Naturally," he said, watching as Sarah played with the goblins that adored her. "If I did not, someone _else _might have asked to be her partner."

"As well they might, she being young and attractive."

Sarah was blushing again. "I'm right here."

Tothian smiled at her, taking the hand that stroked Nogtwit's horn (for his part, Nogtwit was shaking a hind leg in his pleasure) and kissing it gallantly. "It was a comment meant to be overheard, dear lady. Please don't take offense. Or would you prefer I flattered you more outright?" Sarah's blushing covered her whole face. Jareth looked about ready to rip him limb from limb. "Your husband is quite jealous, Goblin Queen."

"Yeah, I've noticed..."

"And most unkind and selfish as well. I heard from several ladies they were crushed not to be permitted to dance with him."

Jareth waved this comment away, but Sarah was curious. "Crushed over Jareth?"

"Indeed." Tothian was smiling a snowy white grin at her, all genteel manners. "You must realize by now you have married a very accomplished dancer." Sarah looked away, could she really be embarrassed about _that _as well? "He has always been in high demand among the ladies at balls, leastwise because he was an eligible bachelor until now."

Jareth's manner was not cold, but it was...solid, as best as Sarah could describe it. He stood tall with a kind of glitter in his strange eyes, as if he were very quietly pleased with himself in that moment. "I told all of those women I would not marry them. It is their own fault if they thought I lied about that fact."

"Look," Sarah sighed. "I'm not trying to be rude. But it's obvious this conversation isn't really meant for me."

"My lady, I did not mean to-"

"It's fine," Sarah held up her hand, the one he kissed. "But I'm really tired, and if it's okay with both of you, I'm just going to go sit on my throne and talk to the boys."

Tothian already couldn't believe her form of address, or that she was just going to leave the conversation. He cast a surreptitious glance at Jareth and saw the man was still smirking. How _could _he brook this behavior! "The...boys?"

Sarah smiled and twirled the scruffy patch of hair on top of Bugwit's head. The ugly, pug-faced creature _purred_. "My boys."

"Go along, Sarah," Jareth allowed with a wave of his hand, and she turned on her heel and flounced to the throne, draping herself lazily atop it in her own style that was not dissimilar to that of her husband. Jareth turned careful eyes onto his guest. "Curiosity satisfied, Tothian? Or have you come to tell me just how unsuitable my Queen is?"

Tothian gave a bitter smile. "You must admit, Jareth, she is only a mortal girl."

"She is a mortal girl who bested the Labyrinth – no one before her ever did, and that _includes _a number of our powerful kinsfolk, I'm sure I don't have to remind you."

The bitterness in Tothian's smile increased. "Quite."

"Unless _you _wish to make a go of it? As you say, she is only a mortal girl, and you are the Winter King. I'm sure you would make it in half the time. Besides," the Goblin King was giving a terrible, pointed grin. "I think this whole little visit is about jealousy."

The Winter King almost choked. "I beg your pardon?"

"Look at my lovely little bride." Jareth's gloved hands tightened with possessive pride. "The most glittering little jewel in the Underground. Have you grown tired of waking up beside the same woman for the last eight centuries?"

"_Jadis_," Tothian hissed, his ire raised. "Is a woman of exceptional breeding, she was _created _to be a consort. Do you mean to tell me you will not tire of this...this _Sarah _in as much time?"

Jareth was smiling, holding the point of his chin in one gloved hand, the other at the first's elbow. "Never. She is the type that constantly subverts my expectations." He pointed her out now, playing and chatting with the goblins that gathered around her throne; it was _disgusting_! "Would your well-born fey queen treat any of _your _subjects so warmly?"

"I would be ashamed if she did."

"Your outrage on my behalf is quite wasted, Tothian. Sarah was not my choice, she was the Labyrinth's."

"The..." Tothian had heard the rumors: had it been a boy who had beaten Jareth, he might have become the new Goblin King. But since a _girl _had done it, it was the marriage of the two most powerful forces that the Labyrinth respected – its King and its Champion. "The Labyrinth may have power, but it's not _alive_."

"Oh, I wouldn't go saying that out loud, if I were you."

"And you mean to tell me you just _accept _this order? From the thing you rule?"

"No one rules the Labyrinth," Jareth chided, straightening his white leather gloves around his wrist. "At best, one earns its respect, perhaps even its friendship. I may have experienced some initial...irritation, but it knows better than I what is best for this Kingdom – and for its King, it seems."

There was no question. The Goblin King had gone quietly out of his mind. Tothian looked at the little sorceress who did it, the one who claimed she had no magic; _that _claim was patently ridiculous. If she'd beaten the Labyrinth, then it had subverted its magic to her, she could call upon an immense well of power at her leisure. And yet, he could sense no glamor from her. Other than the fey touch that was all around her, she seemed _entirely _mortal. How could this be? Sarah had goblins on her lap now, goblins weaving vine flowers into the lengths of her dark hair while she giggled like a school girl. "Jareth," Tothian huffed in not-very-disguised disgust. "Will you really allow her to fraternize with your goblins like that in public? It is _most _unbecoming."

He must have said it too loudly, for a dozen glittering goblin eyes turned on him in that moment. Sarah sat up in her throne in shock at the statement, and her eyes narrowed along with all the other ones. Sharp, tusky goblin teeth were barred in his direction, and there was a soft chorus of growls all aimed at _him_. Jareth just clicked his tongue against his teeth. "My, my, Tothian. I do believe they heard that."

"I..." Tothian adjusted his collar about his throat and coughed slightly. "Well. I've taken too much of your time. I had best be off."

"Best be."

Before the Winter King could be savaged by the little monsters in the Goblin King's court, he summoned a perfect ball of ice, tossing it to the stone floor, and disappearing in the shattering crystal cloud.

He'd gotten what he came for – information. There was work to be done.

* * *

Jareth was not _surprised _when the summons to appear before the High Court arrived.

He was _angry_.

For her part, Sarah was torn between confusion and interest. She had not left the Castle since her arrival in the Underground – hell, she'd barely been allowed to leave bedrooms. Getting to travel to the seat of power in this world was an exciting prospect. The High Court was supposed to be the center point of magic and glamor and _power _in the Underground, full of the most beautiful, the most spell-binding fey there were. Her curiosity got the better of her, she wanted to see it.

But...a summons seemed strange. She was packing an overnight bag in her own bedroom in preparation for the trip. It was true Sarah _had _her own bedroom, as a Queen she needed rooms of her own for privacy – at least, that's what she was told. But she could not recall ever _sleeping _in it. Oh, Jareth had been sure to engage the bed in other activities, but generally during the day, and he _always _expected her in his suite at night. Or was it their suite? Sarah was not really sure. This was not a marriage of equality, that much she did know.

In any case, as she packed, her husband lay sprawled across her rarely used bed, running a crystal irritatedly back and forth across his fingertips. "You could be helpful."

"Indeed, Sarah, I could. I could use my magic to pack your bags for you, or prove my devotion and do it by hand. But in either situation, I'll be riffling through your under things. I know I do that already, but do you _really _want me to do it when I'm _not _divesting you of your clothes?" She was so adorable when she blushed like that, and his irritated scowl became a sharp, hungry grin. "Or would you rather I undressed you here and now?"

"O-of course not."

"I could take you on this bed, right here." He stroked the soft, pink coverlet. "Run my tongue over every inch of your soft, young flesh until you scream to the heavens."

"_No_."

He sat up, holding the crystal between his palms and looking _very _interested – interested in the way she squirmed and flushed under his eyes and under his voice. Why couldn't she just admit she enjoyed all this? Did she _have _to be so stubborn? What _did _these prudish mortals do to so unsex their women? It was damn near abuse. "_Sarah_." His voice was almost a song, and he grinned. His voice, like liquid velvet, was all it ever took to undo his poor little spitfire. He saw her eyes close and watched her shiver involuntarily. "Sarah, my Sarah...come to me, my adorable one, _my love_..." He opened his arms to her and watched as she stumbled forward toward the bed. Poor sprout, it was quite unfair, really, for him to unleash so much power against her. She would be helpless if he ever _really _let himself go. Yet Jareth felt very little, if any, remorse when he caught her in his arms and swung her onto the bed beneath him to smother her with passionate, searching kisses. How could he, when her delicate fingers wove themselves into the silver of his hair. They fit so perfectly together, how could she continue to resist it? "Let us ignore the summons, my precious thing...we'll lock the gates and spend all our time making love to one another and never stop."

He broke his own spell, it seemed, for Sarah's green eyes fluttered open, and the lusty desire that had clouded her gaze cleared somewhat. "The summons..." She sat up, despite her husband's growl of annoyance. "What does it mean, the summons to the High Court."

Jareth huffed and lay back on the pillows again, returning to his angry crystal tossing. "Do you want a full answer?"

"_Yes_, I want a full answer." Sarah caught the crystal from out of the air and fixed him with a hard look. He glared right back at her. "When don't I? Stop pouting and _explain _this to me."

Jareth growled a little, but sat up, and conjured another crystal for his distraction. "The fey do take mortal spouses and lovers; you mortals breed much faster than we do, being shorter lived, and so you help us boost our own numbers. The children of these unions are essentially fey, having been exposed to so much magic. But a _king _taking a mortal bride? The High Court is uneasy."

Sarah furrowed her brow, running her hands over the crystal in unconscious imitation. "But why? It wasn't like it was your choice anyway."

The Goblin King let his head drop back onto the pillow, his platinum hair making a halo around his head. For a moment, he almost looked vulnerable. Sarah leaned forward on her toes, intent on getting as much of _that _sight as possible. It shattered as soon as he spoke. "They think you have no power. The Underground is a powerful place, it requires powerful leaders. If they think you are weak, they will think I am weak, and that could lead to instability here, and that can spread outward."

Sarah knew for a _fact _she was not weak. But it was true she didn't have Jareth's kind of power – or Tothian's, what was that ice crystal disappearing act of his? For some very odd reason, she felt her insides clench at the thought. "You're not weak, Jareth."

His eyes were still closed, but he smiled in that smug manner of his. "Why thank you, precious."

"If they think I am weak, what could they do about it?"

"They might try to remove you from the position of Queen."

There was a silence in the bedroom, Sarah staring at the King, the King keeping his eyes closed in the vein of one who is indomitably weary. In a moment, she turned on her heel and stalked to the case she kept at the foot of her little-used bed. It was glass topped, and inside it sat two objects on a swatch of velvet: a collection of vines, flowers and debris, woven into a crown, and a silver and gold diadem. Sarah touched both reverently before lifting the second one and sliding it into her hair. Jareth opened one eye at her movement, and slowly sat up to take her in. "I just got this job," she hissed. "Like _hell _anyone's taking it away from me."

The Goblin King grinned.

* * *

A summons to the High Court was an official occasion, and it was not a private one. As the fey were pleasure loving, despite the seriousness of a summons, it was usually an excuse to hold one kind of party or another. Being of a serious bent, this one was a formal dinner party. It was a little dizzying to Sarah: there were nearly as many people in attendance here as had come to the Midsummer Ball in the Goblin Kingdom. Only while that had had an air of frivolity, a celebration of the height and bounty of the summer, the dining hall of the High Court seemed stiff and cold and a little caustic. People moved in stiff circles, speaking in quiet voices laced with haughty scorn while rumor lovers plied their wares among the different guests. Sarah had also been at an advantage at her own ball, she'd been the hostess. All she had to do was sit at the head table and smile and speak politely when approached. Otherwise, Jareth dominated her attention.

It seemed he intended to do that here as well, for he held her hand tightly with his own, raised so that her arm draped against his. "_Don't _wander," he hissed to her as they entered and their presence was announced. For a girl who had designs on becoming an actress at one point, the sudden attention fixed on her was almost painful. She could see the scrutiny in that sea of glittering eyes, all sizing her up, all _judging _her. It made her distinctly uncomfortable, and she suppressed the urge to wiggle nervously. For once, her sense outweighed her curiosity. She had no intention of wandering away from Jareth, who stood very tall and was constantly angling her away from prying eyes. His preferred position for her was in corners or against walls, where he acted as a kind of barrier to those who might have wanted to approach. It was a bit primeval, but feeling threatened, Sarah was more than willing to take it. The meal had yet to start, and their hosts had not arrived, so most guests were milling around the massive dining hall – bigger than the Goblin Kingdom's, and she'd already thought that was enormous – accepting drinks from dazzling servants and nibbling on hors d'ouevres. There were some faces she recognized, peering as she did from around her husband's shoulders, and occasionally they might smile at her. Sarah smiled back before Jareth's scowl caught her attention again, and they went back to quiet conversations on how to navigate the, ahem, labyrinthine set of social graces that dominated royal fey culture, or otherwise stood in tense silence.

Sarah was spared the opportunity to argue with her husband by the clear noise of a trumpet announcing the arrival of the evening's hosts, the High King and Queen. She had once heard creatures like the fey referred to as the Shining Ones, and with the King and Queen, she could well believe it...it made sense to bow, because she was having a hard time looking in their direction. No one else seemed to be having this problem. Was it something she'd adapt to with time, or was magic involved? No matter, the hosts had taken their seats at opposite ends of the table, and the others moved to take their places. Jareth was across from her, so she could see him well enough, but given the vastness of the table and the number of people present, hearing him speak was almost impossible. Instead, she was relegated to conversing with her neighbors; one was caught up in a discussion with the person on the other side of them, and the other was a pale woman Sarah did not recognize.

The fey tended to be fair of complexion, it seemed, most blond or red-headed or otherwise lighter in tone. There were very few with darker hair or skin, and it made her own chocolate dark locks stick out like the black sheep in the fold. But the woman to Sarah's left was exceptionally white, even by fey standards. Her eyes were so light a blue they almost lacked pigment entirely, and her hair was much the same. She was draped in an icy blue gown, the bodice edged with crystals that looked like ice, with an ornamental snowflake pinned into her hair. Sarah couldn't help but stare at her.

The woman didn't seem to mind, smiling slightly with pale lips that almost look frosted when she raised her golden chalice to her lips for a drink. "You look like a starting fawn, little Goblin Queen."

Sarah was shaken from her reverie, feeling _very _mortal and ordinary in the presence of so much magic and beauty. "What?"

"It has been some time since one has stared at me so openly, and then it was usually suitors. Do I distract you so readily?"

Sarah blushed, feeling fleshy and mortal and warm next to someone so...cold and perfect, like an ice sculpture. She pushed her spoon through her soup bashfully. "I guess all I can say is that you do."

The woman laughed lightly, like the sound of crystals in the wind. It even caught Jareth's attention across the table, and he looked to his wife to see what was going on. He received no signal of reply, for the mysterious woman was speaking instead. "We have not yet been properly introduced." She smiled, and it almost seemed a warm gesture in a cool face. "My name is Jadis."

"I-I'm Sarah."

"I'm afraid I have you at a disadvantage, as I know quite well who you are."

Sarah blinked, taking the tiniest sip of her soup to at least try to keep up appearances. "You do?"

Jadis smiled again. _She _seemed like a Queen, all aloof and elegant and regal. Sarah wanted to be like _that_. "It is not every day a mortal ascends to a throne in the Underground. You have been the topic of avid discussion in the last several months."

"Great..." Sarah pushed her bowl away, appetite lost. "That's all I need, to be a curiosity."

"I'm afraid you cannot help that, by nature of what you are. No one had ever beaten the Labyrinth, least of all a human girl. And now, here she is, to rule in the Underground? It's almost revolutionary."

"That's what all this is about, right?" Sarah asked her quietly as a servant removed her soup and replaced it with the fish. "Me being a Queen? Please...can you tell me what's going to happen?"

"I cannot," Jadis replied, her white eyes very clear as she speared a bit of the flesh onto her fork in a dainty, yet predatory gesture. "I am not a soothsayer, I cannot possibly know the outcome."

"But you know how these summons things work, right?"

She swallowed her bite and nodded. "Indeed I do."

"Well...it would really put my mind at ease if I could just have _that_."

The Winter Queen took another sip of wine and set her goblet down, thoughtfully dabbing at her pale lips. "Very well." Sarah's green eyes lit up like a light display, it was actually quite amusing, almost charming. This was an innocent child alright. "You will stand before the High Court, probably for several hours. If you have a pair of comfortable shoes you can glamor, I suggest doing so." Damn, Sarah hadn't though of that...she couldn't cast any glamors, but she might have been able to ask Jareth. "They may ask you questions, but probably they won't, they will just discuss you like you aren't in the room. If they wish, they may ask the other Lords present about the situation. If someone feels compelled to argue against you, they can, but that won't happen."

Sarah perked up with curiosity, tentatively nibbling at her fish. "Why not?"

Jadis smiled, a wily amusement glittering in her pale eyes. "King Jareth will remember anyone who stands between him and what he wants. He is powerful, and perhaps more importantly, he is _necessary_."

"Jareth? Necessary?" Sarah snorted a little, but cast a nervous glance at her husband across the table. He hadn't seemed to have heard her at all, thank goodness.

"Indeed he is," Jadis nodded. "The influx of children into the Underground is not what it once was, but natural conception is still...difficult. The Goblin King is the only one with the power over wished away children. If any of these present-" she swept her hand across the table, "-wish an heir, he is their best hope. And he knows that, and they know that."

Sarah felt a knot in her throat and wondered if she'd swallowed a fish bone by accident. "Um, Jadis...does that..include you?"

The pale eyes of the woman were downcast for a moment, with a brief look of intense pain. "...it does."

Sarah bit her lip and wanted to kick herself. "I'm sorry, that was none of my business."

The Winter Queen's smile was fairly gentle and reassuring; Sarah felt certain she could like this woman quite a lot. "If I had not wished to share, I would have diverted the conversation as I wanted. I am not a barren woman. Conception for my kind is just difficult. _You _will not have that problem," and she actually seemed to send an amused glance in Jareth's direction.

Sarah's face burned in contrast to her oh-so-cool companion. "Y-yeah, w-well, that's _way _in the future. B-but, um...I was told the child of a mortal and a fey becomes a fey. What about the children wished away that end up here?"

"Oh," the woman nodded, carefully laying her fork to the side. "Provided they are young enough, they adapt to the environment and become essentially fey themselves. Their magic is not generally as powerful, but it is enough."

"Oh..." Sarah stared at her fish and thought about what might have become of her brother, if she had failed. Would he have been Jadis' son? Sarah had _no _regrets in this, Toby was _exactly _where he belonged. But what of other children in the Underground? Were any of _these _faces, sat at the table and talking quietly amongst themselves, once children of mortal mothers who had loved and missed them? She didn't have time to focus on this too much, as the fish was taken away soon after and replaced with tender slices of beef. The lavish meal continued on, Sarah barely able to nibble on the food she was given, and wondering what the goblins were doing back at the Castle. She felt a lot more comfortable around her own subjects than she did among people that were supposed to be her peers. What did that say about her? Or _them? _

Before she knew it, the dinner was over, and the High Queen was rising to lead the ladies out to an adjoining sitting room for tea, coffee and conversation, while the men would remain behind and...do whatever men did when they were alone with each other; Sarah had some guesses, but no definitive answer to that. Before she could be herded off, however, Jareth had seized her by the elbow and was bowing before the hostess. Sarah had rarely felt relieved to see him, but nonetheless she was, and bowed in her own turn. "Tomorrow will be a trying day for my bride, Your Majesty," he begged off, rising at the waist and turning on his terrible charms. "She is still adjusting to her new life. I fear we must retire early."

"Really, Jareth?" Sarah kept her eyes on the floor, but the tone of the Queen seemed to be one of amusement. Did these people know something about the Goblin King she didn't? "I'd say to sleep well, but I happen to know how you operate."

"Your Majesty does me a great injustice."

"Hm." She tapped a feather fan against the crook of her arm, and she must have smiled, because the light became even more dazzling to Sarah. She felt dizzy...luckily, Jareth still had a hold of her arm. "Permission is, of course, granted. Bring your Queen to us in the morn in good condition. We wish to have this matter settled as expediently as possible."

"As Her Majesty wishes." Sarah hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath, but she gasped for air in the cool darkness of the hallway that led away from the dining chamber anyway. Jareth was polite enough to pause and let her lean against the smooth alabaster walls as she regained her breath and color. "Don't wear yourself out, precious."

"I don't know why, but I feel very tired."

"I could carry you to bed." He was grinning. She preferred him like this: openly lecherous and a predatory snake, none of this bowing and scraping and flirting with other women. _Not _that Sarah was jealous, but at least this Jareth she knew and understood, to a point.

"That is the _last_ thing I want," Sarah hissed to him, at last pushing herself off the wall and taking tiny steps down the passageway. "I didn't expect this to be so...draining."

"You're still adjusting to the Underground. If it's any consolation, if any of them were stranded in _your _world for any length of time, they'd look far worse." Strangely, it almost was. Sarah had a bit of a schadenfreude smile at the thought of those _gorgeous _creatures reduced amongst petty mortality. _Damn, Jareth must be rubbing off on me_. "Tomorrow will be worse." His tone and features were very serious, and he hooked her elbow again and led her through the mass of halls and twists and turns unerringly to the bed chamber that was reserved for them. Sarah found her overnight case waiting at the foot of a massive bed, almost as big as the one in her chamber back at the Castle. The High Court certainly possessed wealth and power in spades...

Sarah turned to face Jareth as he shut the door and began to peel the gloves off his hands. "Do you think anyone is going to challenge us – me – tomorrow?"

Jareth raised an eyebrow at her, dropping the gloves onto a waiting table and slowly unbuttoning his coat. He must have noticed the slip, but he said nothing. "Is _that _what you were chatting with Jadis about?"

Sarah nodded, though she was not wriggling out of her rather uncomfortable gown just yet. "She's Tothian's wife, isn't she? The Winter Queen?"

"She has that honor, yes."

Sarah sighed, sitting at a vanity and pulling the many pins from her hair, rummaging in her case for her hair brush. "I don't know what to think about that guy; one minute he was smiling and calling me beautiful, the next he was saying shit about the goblins. Which side was real? I'm leaning on the latter...but Jadis seemed nice. Oh!"

Sarah's surprised cry was due to her husband catching her hands in his own, gently prying the brush from her fingers, and running it down her hair. The Goblin Queen blushed a deep pink and fixed her eyes in the mirror; however, that did not help, because it afforded her the perfect view of the King's rapturous face, and his own strange eyes would occasionally catch her gaze in the glass, and she felt trapped there, between him and the vanity. "I would remind you, precious thing, that not everything is as it seems. And while I find your vulgarities charmingly rustic, I'd advise you not take that tone tomorrow."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "I know not to swear at _royalty_, thanks. Well, unless it's you." She smiled a little to watch him snort.

Jareth simply lay the brush to the side, running his fingers through her smoothed locks of dark hair. "There. Now you may undress, my love."

"I think you mean, 'change for bed.'"

"I mean _exactly _as I say, Sarah, dear," he purred, pulling her up from the vanity bench by the elbows and dropping his mouth to feast on the exposed curve of her throat. Ah, far more delicious than the brandy he'd have been suffering through with those fools in the dining hall. So many men liked to pretend their wives did not affect them, and perhaps it was true – but that was only because they were not married to his Sarah. And he did not intend to let anyone go near her, either. That delightful, contrary little minx...he didn't love her fighting, but he _did _love her spirit, it aroused him in ways no fey woman ever had. Before she could notice or try to stop him, Jareth had slid his hands around to her back and had expertly undone the laces of her gown, sliding it off her shoulders so he might taste the skin there as well.

"_Jareth_." Was it a hiss of disapproval, or a pant of desperation? Even Sarah couldn't be sure. She would be the last woman in the Underground to _ever _admit to enjoying the things the King did to her. "We're in _someone else's _house."

"Adds to the illicit thrill, doesn't it?" He grinned at her, pulling the gown so it bunched around her hips. She tried to stop him, but his mouth had already found her breast in hungry anticipation, and he reveled in her choked gasp. Poor Sarah. She could fight him all she wanted, but he knew what kind of effect he had on her. Twisting one arm so that it looped around her thigh, he hauled her close and laid her on the bed, stripping the shirt from his chest. Another chance to enjoy his matrimony.

* * *

Tothian had settled next to his wife in the velvet-lined stands that ranged the Throne Room of the High Court. Most other courts in the Underground did not have seating, they didn't need to. They rarely hosted other monarchs. But this was a place for the highest to find justice, to discuss matters of safety and prosperity of the interconnected kingdoms. The bleachers ringed the Throne Room, with gaps at the corners for those present to ascend or descend at the level of the doors. The only side of the room without these risers was the one that housed the thrones of the High King and Queen; grand chairs whose backs of gold stretched toward the ceiling, lined in purple and red velvet, dripping silver and ermine. These seats were lower than the highest point of the stands, but it really didn't matter. It simply assured that every eye was fixed on the most powerful spot in the Underground – at least, the most powerful for the fey.

Aside from their hosts, the High King and Queen, it was the Goblin Kingdom royal couple that were last to enter. Tothian watched them as they strode in through one of the massive sets of doors, as everyone did. The girl Sarah was swathed in grey silk, black beads dotting the bodice and making her look very serious and regal for one so young. He was willing to bet the silly little chit had no idea that her husband had so obviously dressed to match her, himself in a grey shirt and jacket with black trousers and boots. He noticed she was wearing a silver and gold diadem, its center the seal of the Labyrinth. It was hardly the fashion among fey royalty – one need not _announce _one's station, it ought to be known already by breeding and manner and _power_. But then, her ornament seemed to match her husband's pendant, so maybe it was another attempt at changing the fashion. Tothian snorted to himself.

Jadis just barely turned her attention to him beside her. "Something wrong, beloved?"

"Oh, nothing at all, dearest. Just curious to see how this farce shall end."

"How cruel you are." She smiled, but it was cold, like the rest of her. "I found the Sarah child to be a dear, sweet girl."

"And I am sure she is both dear and sweet on her back at the King's pleasure, but that does _not _make her a Queen." Jadis simply laughed.

The Court proceedings began when the High King and Queen had claimed their places at the focal point of it all. Sarah and Jareth stood shoulder to shoulder – or shoulder to arm, as he was several inches taller than she was – in the center of the room, dozens upon dozens of eyes focused on them. The High King furrowed his brow once seated, a page having announced his various titles. "King Jareth," he said in a low, baritone voice that carried naturally in the hall, and swept his hand to the side to indicate a bare spot on the lowest rung of a bleacher. "You may be seated."

"Thank you, Highness," the Goblin King replied with a nod of his head. "But as this trial is against my wife, and we were made one flesh, I prefer to stand." Sarah restrained a blush. It might have been romantic if he hadn't managed to sound so damn smug about it.

The King seemed to find this amusing, for he smiled a little and settled back comfortably in his throne. Sarah noticed he didn't sprawl like Jareth did, all indolent in his repose. Maybe she'd married the "village playboy," after all. "As it pleases you. Let us begin."

The King's vizier stepped forward, clearing his throat and intoning in a sharp voice the charge: "There is some concern over the suitability of the new Goblin Queen. She will be judged by his Majesty, and if necessary, a trial shall begin for her."

It annoyed Sarah that they addressed Jareth and not her. "She is mortal, is she not?"

"She is." Jareth tugged on his gloves, but it was as informal as he was with his High King. "But she is the Champion of the Labyrinth. By its laws, she is Queen."

"Then she must have power over the Labyrinth." There were hushed murmurs from the watching crowd, Sarah could feel Jareth tense beside her, and she couldn't help looking around just a little bit. That was something people kept saying, but she didn't understand what they meant. The Labyrinth was just a maze – a terrible, tortuous maze. What did they mean by _power _over it? Obviously she'd won, but what did that mean in the Underground that she didn't know?

"Yes..." her husband replied in a slow, clenched voice. "But that has not been...explored, as of yet."

The King didn't seem to like this answer at all. "King and Kingdom are one, Jareth. This is true for Queens as much as it is for any monarch. If this girl is weak, then the Goblin Kingdom is at risk of weakening. Should that happen, it could spread throughout the entire Underground, you know this."

Sarah could not restrain herself, her green eyes flashed hot. "I am _not _weak." Why didn't one of these fey assholes try running the Labyrinth at fifteen and see how they did? And she didn't even have magic. It was apparently very scandalous to talk back to the High King, especially when she wasn't addressed in the first place, for excited whispers started up from the crowd. Sarah could just make out a smile on the face of the High Queen and a raised eyebrow. Jeezes, had no one here heard of Women's Lib?

Tothian felt outraged watching this. Who was this mortal _slut _to be speaking back to the _High King _of the Underground. The Winter King stared at Jareth and waited for him to slap her. The Goblin King was quietly _smiling_, that smug, smirking look of his that Tothian so _detested_. The man clearly had no shame. He was going to be the ruin of the Underground. The magic of the Goblin Kingdom would become unstable, and that would infect the magic of neighboring kingdoms until they all fell apart like so many dominoes. How could he do this for one mortal tramp!

Jareth was still smiling that self-satisfied, smug smirk, and gestured to his wife accordingly. "The Queen speaks for herself."

It was lucky the High King seemed somewhat amused by her brassy outburst, though he hid it better than his own wife did. "Why has she not been trained in use of this power?"

"She's young by the standards of her people. She has had much to adjust to. I did not want to push too soon." That was startling to Sarah. Wait, he knew she had some kind of power? Or was he simply bluffing? If it was the former...was Jareth keeping her weak on _purpose_, a way to have leverage over her? If that was the case, oh, she wanted to kill him. But then again, if that _was _the case, it had led to this debacle. And Jareth didn't seem as short sighted as all that, not to her. Sarah was no more enlightened than she had been before the summons to the High Court...

The King shook his head. "It is not a satisfying answer. If she is truly the Champion of the Labyrinth, then she is in stock of an _immense _power, and it should need no push. A demonstration is not an unreasonable request."

"But I don't-"

Jareth cut her off with a gesture of his hand, which quickly balled into an angry fist, tightening and shaking in turns. Sarah had rarely seen him so angry, and yet he held it back so completely. "And if she fails the trial?"

The High King sighed, leaning back slightly. "No one is trying to take your woman from you, Goblin King. Of course you may keep her – but you would be asked to choose another consort."

"_The Labyrinth _chose its consort. If you impose this ruling, it _will _rebel, and the chaos that will unfold will be ten times greater than any chaos based on the ineffectual rule you fear. _I _can keep my kingdom in check, so long as it is not provoked – what the Underground may lose if it _is _I need not say." With a sudden sweeping, almost mocking bow, he bent one knee and asked, "How fares your son, my Lord, my Lady? Strong and healthy? Well, I hope?"

Sarah could just see the slight frown of the High King and Queen, she could just see the distress upon their faces. She looked from these shining rulers to her bowed husband – a sight she had only seen once before, in their own throne room – and felt like her head would spin.

The High King rose, and the rest of the assembly followed suit – all except the Goblin King, who remained on his knee, a very obvious and apparently pain-endusing protest written in his every feature. "It has been decided and so ruled. The Goblin Queen will present herself in one week's time in order that her worth as a monarch may be judged. The Court concludes." With that, he swept from the room, followed by his Queen, but Sarah thought for just a moment that her eyes were upon her, with an almost sympathetic, maybe even _admiring _look. What did all this mean?

It was only after the others had gone that her husband arose, grabbed her hand, and began to leave the Throne Room with her. "Jareth-"

"Be quiet, Sarah."

She growled slightly and tugged against his arm. "Just tell me what's going on!"

"_Later_." He turned on her with cold, flashing eyes – but she didn't back down. She was past that now. Whatever she had been before, she was a Goblin Queen now, and she was not going to buckle this easily. He sighed and pulled her nearer. "Before the week is out. I need time to...think. Not such a terrible request, is it?"

Sarah pursed her lips a little, and felt inexplicably like lightening the mood. Who knew she'd become a real wife? "I don't know. It doesn't usually mean anything good for me when you start thinking."

The Goblin King's mouth twitched in a repressed smile. "My word, the lady is a wit. I shall put that saucy mouth of yours to better uses later." And with no more word than that, the two left the High Court in total silence.

* * *

Sarah did not press him for answers when they returned home that day – and strange to think of it as home now. But what else could she think of as home? She couldn't go back to her _real _home in the Aboveground, try as she might; but when she and Jareth strode through the doors of the Castle at the heart of the Goblin City, she was almost _tackled _by adoring goblins who had missed her in even her two days of absence. Jareth had sneered and said she had better wash to get the stench of goblin off as soon as possible, but Sarah had just ignored him. These were _her_ people, they had chosen her – and apparently so had the Labyrinth, but that mattered less to her than this did. These people had _chosen _her, for who she was. And she wasn't about to let the High Court take that away from her.

But she still didn't ask Jareth about what the upcoming trial meant. Honestly, she wasn't sure she wanted to know. In this case, it seemed that ignorance might be bliss. And what would she do if she _did _know? There was little she could do to prepare, it was clear the trial would not be announced until they returned in a week. Fretting about what she _didn't _know was hardly going to help her now.

So Sarah spent her time in the ways she often did: in the garden or with the goblins or busying herself in the Castle library. On one particular afternoon, she had been wandering the Castle, finding even more rooms she hadn't known existed, when she made a wrong turn and found herself standing in the Escher room once more. Immediately, her head swam and she put a hand on the wall to support herself. Ugh, this place always made her stomach lurch. It was the last thing she wanted to remember, but when she opened her tired, green eyes this time, she remembered one thing very clearly.

_Her. Only three years ago, yet it felt like three life times, even then so much younger, so much more wide-eyed. And him, nearly desperate – over her, or over his impending defeat? That much was less certain. But the words, the words rang through her head like a gong: "Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your _slave."

Sarah stumbled back out of the Escher, not as her fifteen year old past self, but as the reluctantly made Goblin Queen, and she wrapped her arms around her torso in an effort to stop her shaking. "Damn it!" She said it to the air the same way she said it then. "When did _this _happen?"

Fear him – she did. Not as much as she used to, though, when he'd first stolen her from her bedroom window that spring night; he had _terrified _her. He continued to be the source of her dreams and her nightmares, both asleep and awake, through all the weeks that followed, all the weeks of the terrorizing Goblin King leering at her and touching her and letting her know that yes, when you reached the center of the Labyrinth, it was true – you never got out again. Sarah wasn't as afraid of him now as she had been before being given the crown. She wasn't sure how Jareth felt about that, she honestly didn't care. But if he tried, he could still set her skin to crawling, and not always in good ways.

But _love _him? That part she was less sure on. More...dependent upon him. She could almost laugh; Sarah thought of school assemblies where the high school guidance counselor had given lectures on what constituted healthy relationships, what was abusive, what to avoid. Mrs. Buckley would _not _have approved of this relationship, it broke every cardinal rule in the pamphlet she'd handed out to every single student when they walked in the door of the auditorium for the talk. But there it was – good or bad, it was Sarah's life now, and she was not a dumb girl. Without Jareth, she was alone in the Underground. Oh, there were the goblins, even her friends outside the city walls. But the Goblin Kingdom, to say nothing of the entire Underground, was a big, scary world if she were being brutally honest with herself, a world she knew _nothing _about. Jareth _was _dangerous, but he was her only shield from _that_. She needed him now. She didn't want him, but she needed him. Maybe that was a kind of love.

As for doing as he said...that came and went. There were times she couldn't avoid it, the times she'd been terrified and fighting back had failed over and over again. Now, she rebelled in quieter ways, less yelling that she wouldn't be his, more quietly doing what she wanted and refusing to back down when possible. But truthfully, there was little Jareth demanded of her that wasn't sexual. Not that that made it _better_, but he had a tendency to get what he wanted anyway, so she thought that really ought to count for doing what he said.

Then...was the _Goblin King _her slave? She could scarcely believe it, but she couldn't help but think back to when he'd given her the crown and promised her his fealty forever, asked how she might be served. Young Sarah's mouth dropped open, for she had just made a very _womanly _realization: in her hands, she held the power to make a man – a frightening, _powerful _man – do _anything she wanted_. Dear God, _that _was power – a power she was almost afraid to use. But it was one she could understand, at least to a certain extent, given her innocence, and...she had to try.

It was for this reason she left her lord and husband a note in the master suite chambers: she was going to be taking a long bath and _please _not to join her this time, she had things she needed to sort through, and she wanted to surprise him later. She wasn't sure if the note would backfire or not, but Jareth had a tendency to pounce on her when she was alone in the bath, or enjoying a shower, or even just by herself and fully clothed. He seemed to find any time that she was alone and not with him when he was not otherwise engaged to be downright offensive. How one man could be so jealous, so possessive and so overbearing was quite honestly beyond her comprehension. She was pretty sure the school guidance counselor would have considered that a major red flag as well, but Sarah just shrugged as she scrubbed scented soaps along her skin. This was her life now, she was damn well going to own it and make it work for her.

Sarah knew nothing about seduction, but she _had _seen movies, and she still considered herself as having a natural talent as an actress. She thought back to every steamy scene she'd ever seen flicker across the screen, every whispered conversation she'd ever overheard discussing the wants of men and boys, and turned them over and over within her mind. She also had the feeling instinct would guide her on these things. After all, some of this _had _to come naturally, didn't it? The survival of the human race would depend upon it, right? She was unsure, but she was going to give it her best shot.

This assault she had been careful to plan in advance: she'd gone through her wardrobe and selected a slim, black negligee, the cups of the bodice edged with roses done in white silk. It was more see-through than anything she'd have elected to wear on her own, but it seemed likely to get the job done. Sarah went leisurely with her hair, making sure it had time to dry thoroughly and that it would lay soft and silky against her head. She had found a huge pair of pearls that matched the roses on the bodice in color to fasten to her ears, and she daubed a perfumed mix of cinnamon and sandalwood oils at the pulse of her throat and wrists and the crook of her elbows. She'd never considered herself some kind of sexual goddess, but looking somewhat bashfully into the bathing chamber's full length mirror, she considered, yes – she didn't look half bad by any standard. Downright sensual, even.

She swallowed hard. She just hoped she had enough gumption and acting talent to pull this off.

Sarah stepped into the bedroom she seemed to share with her husband and tried to appear confident and sensual and alluring, rather than nervous, which was how she actually felt. Jareth lay sprawled across the massive bed, bare to the waist. He had been reading some official document of one kind or another, apparently awaiting her arrival, and when Sarah stepped into the bedroom, he glanced at her, back to his document – and quickly did a double take.

She felt no better when his lips parted in his classic, hungry grin. "_Well_! Careful, Sarah. A husband may think his wife is trying to seduce him."

Sarah tried hard to restrain her blush. Was she that obvious? "I just felt like dressing up a little."

"Or dressing _down_, rather?" He tossed the document carelessly onto a night table and pillowed his arms behind his head, grinning as he drank in her form. Sarah tried to bear up under this scrutiny, she tried to match him eye for smoldering eye, sashaying her hips in a manner that she thought must be sultry as she approached the bed; it was all very hard to do without breaking down into a self-conscious mess. Jareth's grin only widened. "I'm not complaining, love, believe you me. I would be happy to see you dress so every night. Or every day, even."

She couldn't help it, her naturally sassy attitude came out. "Really? Every day? How about next week in front of the High Court."

"_Beautiful girl_," he purred, extending a hand to help her onto the massive bed. She accepted and allowed herself to be hauled up in front of him, but Jareth didn't touch her otherwise – yet. "Don't ruin this _wonderful _moment by speaking of such crass things..."

Sarah tried to smooth herself over, dipping her head slightly and fluttering her dark lashes. "I just wanted to please you, _Jareth_." She let his name linger on her tongue, almost in a whisper, and nearly grinned to see his eyes half-close in the pleasure of it.

He was purring again, smoothing a hand down her silky hair. "Do go on..."

Very carefully, very slowly, Sarah lifted her knee and pulled herself onto her husband's lap, straddling his thighs and tracing her fingers up his chest to rest against his shoulders. "You told me..." she said in a half whisper, pressing her body close to his own so that he could feel the swell of her breasts through the bodice of the nightgown where they rested along his chest; she also felt the growl that radiated in him there, nearly gasped at the way she felt the peak of her nipples tighten in response. If she weren't so determined right now, she'd have been utterly _embarrassed_. "You told me that if I let you rule me, I could have anything I wanted..."

"And so you can, precious thing." He could deny himself no longer, his hands snaked their way to the curve of her waist and he seized her tightly there, holding her against him as he rolled so that she fell beneath him. But Sarah didn't struggle, she let him have his way and continued to bat dark, green eyes at him. Jareth's hands squeezed her breasts, he growled his pleasure to hear her hiss beneath him at the sensation. His mouth worried a spot at the crook of her neck and shoulder, one of his favorites for little nibbles and leaving marks. She just encouraged him, running the tips of her fingers down his back and shoulders, and trying to make her own purring sounds herself. "Any time you want to let me rule you..."

Her fingers threaded through the silken fall of his hair, and she pulled back on his head ever so slightly. It was amazing to see how dark his eyes had become already, she had barely touched him and this was his response? She tried to discretely clear her throat and steel her courage. "Why not tonight?"

The moan that escaped her husband's lips nearly undid her. Before she could even take a steadying breath, Jareth had fixed his mouth on Sarah's, forced her tongue eagerly with his own, and nearly bruised her with the tightness of his grip at her waist and hips. It felt like he would crush her beneath him, but as soon as she gave a whimpered squeak of discomfort, he eased up. He was almost tortuously gentle, cupping the back of her head with one hand, tenderly swirling her tongue with his, murmuring sweet nothings and terms of endearment like he was the ultimate follower of Eros. Sarah felt breathless and dizzy when he at last allowed her a gulp of air – and that was only because he was slipping the straps of her negligee off her shoulders to bite and nibble the flesh there instead. "_Sarah_." She could feel his arousal pressing against her already, it was unsteadying, to say the least. "My Sarah, _what do you want_?"

This was it, this is what she'd been gearing up for! "I want..." she whispered, running her teeth along the outline of his pointed ear so that he shuddered uncontrollably. God, this was almost too much, who knew being in control like this could be so heady? "I want..." Oh, she was going to tell him, she was going to be clever about it, too. She wasn't going to ask to go home again – no, too obvious. He'd see right through her ploy, pin her to the bed and ravage her to teach her a lesson for toying with him, that he _always _had the upper hand. No, Sarah was smarter than that, she was going to ask for...

Sarah's green eyes shot open, she gasped and stared at the canopy above the bed, feeling dizzy again for entirely different reasons. She had _no idea _what she wanted.

Apparently, this was one aspect of her plan she hadn't thought through.

Oh, she had vague, intangible notions, the kind common to the young: she wanted to go back home, obviously, and she wanted Jareth to not be so damn handsy. She wanted respect and was a little startled to think that maybe, in his own way, Jareth gave it to her; but beyond these things, things that required conversations she didn't know how to have and not simple wishes, she hadn't a clue. Sarah sat up, her husband's hands still resting at the curve of her waist, and he seemed a bit surprised to see her pull away. "I don't know what I want..." she whispered. It was such a terrible notion that it made her skin seem waxen in the low light of the bedroom. Desperate for some kind of guidance, she turned to the only one she knew who could give it to her. "What do you want, Jareth?"

His eyes flared in the darkness, and Sarah was startled – more so when his thin hands grabbed her shoulders and pinned her to the bed beneath him. "_You_, damn it," he hissed, and Sarah wasn't sure if he was mad or not. If he was, why? What had she done? "I want you to look at me like I am the center of your universe; you to be willing and submissive beneath me, eager and passionate to serve my every desire; I want you to hang upon my every word like the most rapturous acolyte. I want you weak and _wild _for me." He growled very close to her face and Sarah bit back a squeak. "I want you to feel about me the way you make me feel for you."

Sarah was shaking a little against his still tight grasp, but she was almost smiling. It seemed the Goblin King wanted intangible things as well, not objects, but vague emotions and senses of life. Not knowing what to say to this declaration, she instead said, "You're hurting my shoulders."

Jareth stared at her a moment, huffed, and let her go. He flopped back against the pillows, grinding his jaw, and Sarah remained on her back a moment, still staring up at the ceiling. So...had she won this confrontation? Had she succeeded in seducing him? If so, what had she gained? If not, what now?

...If not, did she want to go through with it?

"Jareth," she whispered into the dark, and he gave a grumpy noise to indicate he had heard her. "What you said in front of the High Court – you gave them their heir, didn't you?"

"Does it matter?"

Sarah turned on her side, soft, dark hair spilling over her shoulders. The Goblin King watched the fall of it and could not tear his gaze away. "I'm not trying to start a fight with you," Sarah said, and amended, "this time. I'm just curious."

Jareth thought about turning to face her, but decided against it. He wasn't in the mood for open honesty and intimacy, at least not in any way that wasn't physical. Physical was easy, he was good at it. _Talking _and _confessions _were painful and he did not enjoy them. "I gave them the child, yes. And before your next question, yes, he was once someone's mortal child. If you're going to rail against me, you might as well do it in a negligee."

Sarah pursed her lips and wrinkled her nose at him. He had such a one-track mind. "But they love their child."

"Of course they do. It is the only time the High King and Queen would ever bow before _me_."

"And they treat him well?" Jareth did finally roll his eyes at her, an expression that read, "_What do you think_?" Sarah blinked to steady herself. "...maybe it doesn't matter. Or maybe it does, but if it happened so long ago, I don't think me being mad at you will help."

"_Well_." The Goblin King did turn on his side at last, looking her up and down as she lay upon the bed. "That _is _unexpected."

"You don't have to be a jerk about it."

"Do all these questions have a point, I wonder?"

Sarah took a steadying breath, and for some reason, put her hand on his arm. He seemed surprised, and she decided she did it to keep his attention focused and to strengthen her own resolve. "I want to go home – and I can't, so don't start getting mad at me for wanting it. But knowing that, I want to live my life as best as I can here. I don't want to be pushed around – not by you, but especially not by a bunch of faerie jerks who don't like me because I don't sparkle or whatever. I want to stay the Goblin Queen – and I want to be _respected_."

There was a long moment, Jareth just staring at her, and Sarah wondered if she'd said the wrong thing. But suddenly, he shook her hand off, only so that he could wrap his arms around her and pull her close to the heat of his body. He was giving that lascivious grin again, and the girl gulped a little. "Precious thing...I promised I would give you whatever you wanted. I will see that whoever started this complaint in the High Court suffers for it."

"That's not what I-"

"And..." he pressed a kiss to her lips gently, a preview of coming attractions. "We shall show the world what a Goblin Queen you are..._and that you are mine_." If she wanted to protest this last part, she was stopped by him rolling on top of her and silencing her with an earth-shattering kiss, his slender hands roaming the curves of her body. He was going to claim her again tonight.

If Sarah were being honest as she kissed him back with everything she had – she didn't mind so much.

* * *

The second appearance before the High Court was less formal: no official trial in the Throne Room, though many of the same monarchs that were present then had come back or stayed to see what might happen to the would-be Goblin Queen. The presentation of the test was done in a formal study instead, both High King and Queen present; the latter actually seemed to smile at Sarah a little. "If she is the Labyrinth's Champion," the High King intoned in his smooth, baritone voice, "then tapping its power ought to come naturally to her, and that would seem sufficient to prove she can learn to bear these responsibilities in the Underground. However," and he held up his hand just in case Jareth meant to protest, though he was smart enough not to. "Being young and mortal and still unused to these things, we are willing to be generous. The child shall have three days – she must prove her magic once before the next day starts, every time. The rest of the time may be used to rest and gather her energy for her next attempt. When the three days are passed successfully, then nothing more shall be said by anyone, anywhere."

"Sarah." It was the Queen who spoke, and Sarah felt her mind throbbing again. Were these people angels or something? They were so bright and shiny and _intense_. "We have selected a room for your stay here, so you may not feel like a prisoner."

Jareth had to gently prod her to respond, as her head felt as though it would split open in the presence of such intensely powerful beings. Sarah remembered to curtsy low. "I thank Your Majesties for your generosity."

"Goblin King," it was spoken King to King, and Sarah looked uneasily between them. "If we allow your presence near your bride, there may be talk that the contest was unfair. Therefore, you will stay in our presence."

Jareth's face twitched, Sarah could see it, but he bowed all the same. "It will be my honor..."

"Let the trial begin, then. Come, girl." Sarah was being led out of the study, and she gave her husband an uneasy look over her shoulder. Jareth just barely nodded to her, but she still somehow felt a tad better for it, like he was trusting her to be able to come through this.

Down a maze of twisting corridors, Sarah was taken to a small bedroom. It would not have been considered grand enough for most queens, but to her it was a relief, more like a very nice hotel room than some overdone royal apartments. The room was small, with just the necessary furnishings – a full bed, a vanity with a bench, a small table, and a few shelves. That was all. It was connected to a washroom, but that was also small, with a basin for regular use and a very small bathtub. Sarah almost sighed.

"Child." The Queen was speaking to her, Sarah whirled around, having almost forgotten she was there. She regretted the sudden movement, as it put the woman full into focus and made her head pound again. "There are wards on this room to keep your husband away. Do you understand this?" Sarah nodded. "You will be quite alone – but food will be brought to you. Nothing will harm you during your stay here, that is the promise of host to guest."

"I-I'm not worried," Sarah replied, holding her chin up even though it felt like her skull might split open at any second.

The High Queen must have smiled at her a little, because the light grew even brighter, and then she disappeared. Sarah gave a great big sigh, like she'd been holding her breath, and watched as the bedroom door shut in front of her. No leaving now.

A display of her power, huh? That was all well and good, but nobody had told her what that meant! She had thought maybe she'd have to run the Labyrinth again and prove she really did it, or maybe the High Court would have a maze all its own to put her through. She was glad they didn't, but wondered if that meant the Labyrinth was _the _Labyrinth – the only one of its kind in the Underground, and what that meant for the Goblin Kingdom and for her. She hadn't bothered asking for clarification of the requirements of this test, because she had read enough fairy tales to know no one was going to tell her that. A display before the next day began...did that mean it had to be done by midnight? Or before someone came to check on her?

Mostly she worried about how she'd pass all this time with no one to talk to and nothing to do. Sarah paced for a little while, thinking perhaps meditation on the subject of her power might help. She'd never really been the praying sort, but she tried that, praying awkwardly to whatever the Labyrinth manifested as. That felt weird; that place (that thing?) had given her so much trouble, it didn't seem right to ask it for anything now. And anyway, it didn't help. Maybe they wanted her to transform into an owl, like Jareth. Sarah thought about being a bird, she pictured herself as a bird, she remembered every pantomime exercise from every drama class she'd ever participated in – she flapped her arms and even tried "hooing" like an owl. But nothing happened. She opened her eyes and looked in the mirror, and she was still just Sarah. Maybe she hadn't believed in it strongly enough.

The morning became the afternoon in this way. She tried making wishes, which was something she had been careful to avoid in the last three years. It didn't work, but maybe because she wasn't wishing to the Goblin King. She didn't want to do that, lest it count as summoning and maybe that would mean she'd be breaking the rules? Sarah went back to pacing.

She had wondered about how the food might be delivered, but at the lunch hour, a silver platter with an etched silver cover appeared on her small table. She lifted the lid, but nothing was there. She tried one more time to see if maybe there was a bell or something she could ring, but on her second attempt, a lunch of soup and bread had appeared on the plate. Of course – magic. Dinner came a few hours later in much the same fashion; this time it was slices of roasted lamb with smoothly whipped potatoes and the most delicate green beans she had ever seen in her life, but Sarah had little stomach for it. The day was mostly over, and she still had been unable to figure out how to _display _her magic. She'd wiggled her fingers, she'd twisted her wrists, she'd tried making up spells and even just, "open sesame," to her door, but nothing had helped. She had been about to ready for bed in the hopes that maybe it was something that would happen while she slept, when a sudden cold overtook the room and she shivered uncontrollably.

There was some sort of...fog or mist or _cloud _enveloping everything in the small suite, and yet Sarah was sure no windows were open – and it was the end of summer, there was no way it should be this cold, even if it were an early fall. Through the thick air, she could just make out a sense of a breeze as if...coming from underneath the bedroom door? And then, so quickly did it change that she didn't even have time to scream, the mists coalesced in front of her to form-

"Tothian?"

"My lady." It was the Winter King before her, smiling over her hand and planting a gentle, cold kiss on the back of it. "How wonderful it is to see you."

"But I thought...that is, they said I had to be alone for the trial."

The strange man's smile widened, or sharpened, she wasn't really sure which. "The Court was worried about interference from your husband, it's true, but they did not anticipate anyone else might come to your assistance."

"Assistance?" she parroted back. Tothian resisted the urge to roll his eyes. She was a little slow, wasn't she?

"You told me before you had no magic."

Sarah nodded, at last pulling her hand from his, and noticing how cold her fingers were now. "I don't."

"Then do you not wish my help?"

"I _do _need help," she agreed, rubbing her hands together in an effort to warm them. "It's just, um...I don't understand why you want to help me, I guess."

Tothian smiled broadly at her, drawing up a seat. "Because I _like _you, my lady."

She blushed slightly. "Thanks..."

"You're a sweet young lady, being preyed upon by older, more aggressive members of the Court. It would be injustice to sit here and do nothing."

"So...what did you have in mind? Magic tutoring?"

"A fine notion," he replied, but his mouth was a thin line. "But I'm afraid we're under a bit of a time restriction. I was going to channel my magic through you; it should help awaken any power inside you, if it's dormant, and it will bear your signature, so the Court cannot object. Does this sound reasonable?"

Sarah felt very unsure about this. It seemed a little like cheating, but was it, really? The fey loved trickery, and as long as the result came from her, the rules of the trial would have been obeyed. Moreover, she was looking a gift horse in the mouth. And really...what choice did she have? Mutely, she nodded. Tothian clapped his hands and grinned at her. She thought he looked a little bit like Jareth with such a sharp smile, all pale hair and glittering eyes. But where Jareth's eyes were mismatched like the rest of his kingdom, Tothian's were an icy, arresting blue. He still gave off that dangerous aura all fey did, but...it didn't draw her in the way Jareth did, there was no pull between them. She wasn't sure why, but she felt somewhat relieved by this – she wasn't taken in by every pretty fey face that crossed her path. But that meant it was just Jareth who effected her in that way, and she wasn't sure that was much better.

"Excellent, my lady!" he was still smiling, laying his palms on the point of his knees. He was less bony than Jareth was, too, a little stockier and not all lithe limbs and sharp angles. Why was she thinking about Jareth so much, gawd! "Now, I do need you to understand, magic always requires an even exchange. It's never 'something for nothing.'"

Sarah scrunched up her eyebrows. "But I don't have-"

Tothian raised his hand and it silenced her. "Now, now, any little thing will do. Magic is satisfied with trifles. Now, how about..." He gave the impression of looking thoughtfully about the room and studying Sarah, and while it was not a lecherous look in any way, she still found herself suddenly uncomfortable. "Ah! How about your necklace?"

Unconsciously, Sarah's hands flew to her throat. She'd forgotten she was even wearing one. "This?" She fiddled with the clasp and it dropped easily into her palm; some collection of champagne diamonds roped in silver. She smiled freely and placed it in her ally's hand. "Sure." She had so many jewels she couldn't even keep track of them. It was hardly an issue.

"I thank you, my lady, most generous of you." He cupped the dripping finery in both hands and seemed to focus very intently for a moment. When his hands separated again, the item was gone, and Sarah would have asked him how he had done that – but Tothian had already stood up and crossed to where she sat on the low settee, coming around behind her. She almost jumped straight out of her skin when his lay his hands on her forearms from behind. "My apologies," he murmured as she stiffened. "This may hurt somewhat."

It felt like ice water had just sloshed through her veins – or even dry ice, the coldest thing she had every felt or imagined in her life. Sarah had to bite her tongue to keep from crying out, and even then her teeth chattered with the cold of it. The cold _was _painful, but there was something else. It felt like a pull inside her mind, like something was being awoken and dragged out. Suddenly, the chill radiated in her hands, which Tothian brought together in front of her. She couldn't stand it much more, she was about to cry out-

There was a crystal there now. Or something like one. It was freezing cold to the touch, like a ball of ice, yet it seemed lighter than that. Sarah almost dropped it, but the Winter King helped her to steady her hands. "There..." he muttered in a smooth, low voice. "It was well done, my lady."

Sarah could barely speak but for her shivering and the chattering of her teeth. "I-I-I-"

Tothian waved her off. "Do not worry about a thing. You will be tired, you must rest. The night has fallen." He smiled at her. "All will be well, you _shall _succeed this trial. This I promise you, Queen Sarah." Before she could ask any more questions or thank him for his intervention or anything, he had become like a mist again and floated back through the bedroom door.

Sarah didn't bother changing for bed. She crawled straight under the covers, pulling herself into as tight a ball as possible to conserve any kind of warmth, and wrapped herself in the sheets like a cocoon, imagining sunny beaches and hot stews.

* * *

Sarah was able to avert her eyes on the basis of deference as the High Queen turned the strange ball over and over on her fingers. The King watched the whole time, and Sarah just held her breath. _They're going to be able to tell it wasn't just me, or it won't be good enough, or they'll lock me away forever, and for _God's sake, _could they turn down the brightness a little!_

Yet for all the girl's misgivings, the High Queen turned curiously to her husband, head canted at an angle and said, "It is correct."

The King nodded. "Two more days, child." That was it. The door was shut again.

Sarah thought she'd feel relieved. She actually felt worse.

Still, she started the early afternoon hopeful. Tothian said he would awaken some of her power. She tried to remember the way the cold had felt coursing through her veins, tried to relive it in every detail. She willed, she focused, she tried _so hard_. There was nothing, not a spark, not a fizzle, not even a mote of dust was created by any power she had. What were all these people talking about, power over the Labyrinth! She'd lost all power! The power to choose, the power to live her life the way she wanted, right now she didn't even have the power to leave this room! Sarah grew desperate. She tried taking an ice cold bath to see if it would help bring the magic, but all it did was make her numb, and she was pretty sure she was coming down with a cold.

It was a long, long day.

Sarah had worked herself up into a perfect little frenzy by the time the thirteenth hour was struck on the clock. Thirteen perfect chimes, the girl became terrified she had failed – and then there was that mist again, growing a little faster this time. The Goblin Queen couldn't help herself, she cried out in relief when Tothian appeared. Perhaps it was unwise, but she grabbed his hands as soon as they appeared and squeezed desperately. "I was so worried!"

"Were you?" the Winter King asked, able to keep from yanking himself away from the grabby girl, but only just. "Why is that, dear girl?"

"I-I couldn't do it. I really tried, I swear I did, but-"

"Please." Tothian raised a cold hand and noticed the wild look in her eyes, the dry rasp of her voice. Good. This was working. "It is alright now, child. I promised I would help you, did I not?" Sarah nodded vigorously. "Awakening dormant magic takes time. I am not surprised you could not do it on your own – yet. But we must make this quick, I will be noticed. Now, what do you have for me."

"Have?" Damn, Sarah had forgotten that part. She looked wildly around the room. "U-um, maybe a handkerchief, or..."

"That." Tothian was pointing at her hand. Her _left _hand, the third finger thereof.

Sarah's fingers absentmindedly touched the gilded band. "My ring?" The Winter King nodded. Sarah bit her lower lip and looked at the diamond that glittered in its setting. "It's not that I mind giving it to you, but it's my wedding ring. If Jareth sees I've taken it off, he'd kill me."

"Oh, come now. A man as infatuated as he is?" Why did this fail to comfort her? "I'm sure if you explain it was in order to save your throne, he would more than understand. There are plenty more rings in the Underground." His hand was out to her, palm up. Sarah hesitated. "Come now." With marked reluctance, Sarah slowly pulled the ring free from her finger. Her hand felt strangely bare now. It wasn't that she was particularly sentimental, but it _did _seem wrong somehow. Even so, he had a point, and what choice was there? Sarah dropped it into his waiting palm. Almost instantly, Tothian's fingers closed around it. "Good. We must act quickly." With almost bruising intensity, he seized her fingers, and Sarah could not repress her cry against the cold and the pain. There was that feeling again, that horrible numbing feeling, and the terrible, aching pull in her head grew worse now. It was making her nauseous, she was going to throw up right here on the Winter King's shoes if he didn't- "There. It is done." Her head hurt so badly, Sarah could barely open her eyes. Still, she was able to peel one lid open just enough to see that, sure enough, a crystal was sitting in her hands now. She made a choked whimpering sound. "I must go now. Adieu, Goblin Queen."

She wasn't sure when he left, or if he became that cloud again, or even when she went to bed. She only became aware of herself again when the blessedly warm light of the morning was falling onto her face. She'd slept in her clothes again, and she felt like her head was about to split open. Sarah had no appetite, and looked pale and drawn before the High King when he came to examine her handiwork that morning. The Queen even looked at her with concern, but Sarah couldn't see it. She had her fingers over her eyes to try to think of anything but the pain. Yet the High King smiled at her. "Just one more day, Goblin Queen."

One more day. It might as well have been one more lifetime.

Sarah felt so drawn, so thin, she felt she might break apart at any moment. It was the first time in a long while she'd felt like crying, and she wasn't even entirely sure why. _I must be hormonal_. But that didn't feel like the right answer at all. Something was inside her mind, whorling and twisting, and it only gave her a headache to try to create the crystal on her own. She could feel she was close this time, she swore sometimes she could see light between her fingertips – but every time something _almost _happened, a flash of pain would cross her and she'd cry out, exhausted and frustrated and ready to throw something or pitch a fit or just lay down and never get up again.

She did not eat. She could not sleep. She was _so close_, and the frustration of that fact was killing her.

What was worse, Tothian had not come. She had tried the whole afternoon, the whole evening. She didn't bother trying to go to bed this time, because surely by midnight he would arrive. When midnight came and went, she amended it to thirteen o'clock in the morning. The Winter King did not arrive. Oh God, what had happened? Was his meddling discovered, were members of the High Court on their way even now to drag her out and show how completely unsuitable to the throne she was? What would happen to the goblins, to the City, to _her _if they did? Or worse, had Tothian abandoned her? To have come this far, to have spent these two miserable days in solitude, only to give up now – it was unthinkable. Sarah tried and tried and tried, bit her lips until they bruised as she concentrated. Nothing was happening.

And through her window, she could see the sun was coming up.

Her desperation became real and pronounced, she thought she was about to go out of her mind. This was it, she'd failed, Jareth would be _disgusted _with her. Everything bad that had ever happened in her life, it was all a prelude to this moment: her mother had left the family because Sarah had not been good enough, her lack of magic proved it. She was kidnapped from her home because she wasn't strong enough to stop it, this exercise showed it. Anything she had worked or striven for was going to be ripped from her hands all over again, all because she couldn't make just one stupid-

She was so busy concentrating on her hands she didn't see Tothian appear in front of her, and she almost screamed. "They are coming." He didn't look like she had ever seen him before: his eyes were wild, hard, _cold_. He looked like the embodiment of the most pitiless winter, and the temperature of the room had plummeted. "Quickly, there is one last thing you must give to me."

Sarah was out of her head with the stress of it, she felt like a wild animal hunted to exhaustion and now cornered for the kill. "Yes, anything!" If he had asked her to strip now, she would have done it almost without hesitation, she was completely run out of time.

It was worse than that. Tothian's grin showed pointed teeth, and for a second, Sarah swore they were bloodied – but no, they were as white as ever, as white as he was, and his hand was out to her. "Offer to me the fruit of your womb, your firstborn child, and I will help you."

She couldn't believe it. "_What_!"

"There is no time! They are coming, can you not hear them?" Oh sweet God, he was right, she could hear the footsteps coming down the hall, to the door. "Time to decide, Goblin Queen – what is your position worth to you. _Give me your child_."

"I don't even have any – this is _insane_!"

The cruelty in his countenance was absolutely unmatched. It was the greedy, heedless look of the most rank of living creatures. "Decide now or lose the chance forever," he hissed, he would not allow her a moment's time to think this through.

They were drawing closer. _Shit_! "Fine!" She cried out, clasping her hand in his, and almost shrieked. It was white hot agony this time, like her brain was being shredded from the inside. She swore the cold was swirling all around them now; it was in her hair, it was freezing her eyelids together, it was penetrating her lungs until she could not breathe-

And all at once, something broke through the barrier of her mind: it felt like her eardrums were about to burst, and there were thousands upon thousands of little voices in her mind. Goblins chittering and complaining and gossiping about tomorrow's dinner; fieries howling like maniacs and throwing each other's heads around; Sarah could hear songs from sirens and even the plants of the Labyrinth seemed to speak in their own, voiceless way. Above all this, there was a dull hum, a bodiless consciousness that snaked tendrils around her head and heart and begged to pull her in closer. Lovely Sarah, strong Sarah, _powerful _Sarah – prove your worth, rescue the child. We shall give you everything we are, for you are the conqueror. Our Champion, our everything, take us, take us. All of our power, bent to your will. Shake the heavens, color the earth, your merest whim is our wish and desire. Sarah, Sarah, Sarah-

"_Ugh!_" The girl shrieked, grabbed a pillow and threw it across the room. "_Fucking hell_! Am I a schizophrenic now, is that it? I can't _handle _this!" The roaring noise inside her mind dulled dramatically – all but that hum, it hovered curiously on the edges of her mind, waiting for more orders or requests. But how did she know that's what it was doing? Sarah's green eyes shot open: she knew because it was hers – _the Labyrinth_. She had power over the Labyrinth, she had _its power_. Tothian's last push of his magic through her, it had broken the barrier, and while she had no idea if that had been his intention, she _really _did not care at the moment. "I need a crystal!" she shouted at the empty air, though she had no idea when Tothian had left. It formed between her hands like a huge drop of molten gold, and the sensation almost hurt, but Sarah didn't care. So hasty was this power to bend to her will, the ball almost shot from her fingers. It didn't matter – it was there, it was _there_! It was hers-!

The door opened. It wasn't just the High King and Queen this time, but a few of their assistants – and Jareth, Jareth was waiting there with an anxiousness in his eyes only she could see. With a cry, she launched herself forward, hands out. The Goblin King caught her in his arms before she could stumble over her own tired feet. "I did it!" Sarah was near hysterical with her effort, her hands still forward, showing her husband, the courtiers, anyone who would pay attention. "Look, look! Magic! And it was _all me_!"

The King pulled the orb from her hands, the Queen was smiling broadly. And what was strange was that...they didn't look the same. That unearthly glow was almost entirely gone, Sarah could look at them without her head or eyes hurting. She could see the rich, golden brown cascade of hair the framed the Queen's face – beautiful. She could see the strong chin of the King, his own black hair that fell to his shoulders. Was this the magic, too? She didn't have time to care; Jareth was smoothing gloved hands over her hair, and it crackled with static. No, with magic, she realized, but it hurt either way, and so she yelped.

"Precious," he was murmuring, holding her tightly against his chest. Sarah tucked her head under his chin, breathing heavy. She could feel the power inside of her responding, it was _giddy _with this union of its chosen monarchs. She couldn't be sure if it was that which was prompting her feelings, or simply his absence, or if it was teenage hormones – but she had never wanted to fling their bodies onto a bed and be ravaged by him more in her _life_. "Of course you did it," he was still speaking softly, holding her face in his hands. He felt it too, she could see it in his eyes. He _craved _her. Dear God, she was melting. They needed to get away _now_-

The High Queen was still smiling, her head tilted in her amusement at the intensely private scene. "The trial is passed," she said, and Sarah was amazed at how melodious her voice was. "You are free to go, with our blessings."

Sarah didn't bother with groveling or thanks or haughty displays of, "Of course I passed, _duh_!" She just wrapped her arms tighter around Jareth's torso and closed her eyes as his magic wrapped around them both – so much calmer and cooler and stronger than hers, but she was going to get better – and carried them away together to the Goblin Kingdom.

* * *

"I know what we can do, to keep the High Court from meddling in my affairs again."

"Jareth, I'm trying to wash my hair."

"I'll run my fingers through it, precious thing, it will be perfectly clean."

"Shampoo will do just _fine_, thank you."

"_Sarah_..." It was almost a growl, that, "Don't defy me," voice of his. Before she could so much as squeak in protest, the Goblin King had hold of her by the elbows and was dragging her closer to him in the bath. Sarah put her arms straight out to try to act as a block between them, but Jareth paid her little mind. If it was possible, he was even more clingy now than he had been before. When Sarah pointed out he was probably neglecting matters of State, Jareth simply dragged her with him to his study as he worked and set her on his lap. The girl would sit stock still for as long as possible, but even then she would prove too much a temptation for her husband, and he would almost unfailingly clear off the desk for a coital break. He was getting to be damn annoying, as his invasion of her bath was proving.

"I'm so sick of the High Court stuff. Let's talk about _anything _else."

"Why talk?" he purred, easily bending her arms so that she was pulled against him and he could fasten his mouth to the crook of her neck. Ah, there was that little whimpering sound he loved so much...His Sarah, and no one could ever come between them again. Especially... He broke away so that he could see how flushed she'd become, even more so than would have been expected from the heat of the water. "But if you insist, I don't mind sharing my plans with you – they involve as much action as they do discussion."

"Majesty!" There was a frantic knocking at the bathroom door. Before he could be told to sod off, Boltsneeze was sticking his worried little head in. "Majesty, Majesty!"

Sarah almost screamed, and quickly glued herself to her husband's chest. "My, my...I don't mind the sudden affection, but now I can't reach your neck..."

"_Boltsneeze, you know you're not supposed to come in when someone's in the bathroom_!"

"But..." he whimpered; besides, this was a new rule. The King didn't like goblins in his chambers, it was true, but he'd never had special rules about when he was wearing clothes or not, this one was all on the Queen. "But Beast of Bog has gone outside the wood again, is heading for trash heaps!"

Jareth sighed, dragging his fingers up and down the length of Sarah's spine while she blushed furiously. "The Goblin Guard can take care of it."

"Beast slimed one, they scared."

"Gods," Jareth rolled his eyes. "Why do I keep a guard if they can do exactly _nothing_?" At Boltsneeze's pathetic, simpering whining, he snapped, "Shut up. I'll be there in ten minutes. Order the Guardsmen to rally and...tell them there will be free ale to those who prove their valor."

Boltsneeze nodded his head enthusiastically – another _brilliant _stroke of leadership by the King! And with that, he quickly tore off before the Goblin Queen could start yelling about him not coming in when she wasn't dressed. He _really _was not fond of her when she did that, he did not see what everyone was so enamored with.

Jareth, meanwhile, slipped out of the bath, and Sarah relaxed considerably. She wasn't proud that she watched him as he moved and dried himself, but whatever – it could be her little secret, no one else had to know. "Will the Guard who got slimed be okay?"

"If the smell doesn't come off, he can just go live with the rest of the stinky little lepers in the Bog."

Sarah's brow creased. "Jareth, that's horrible. You're a King, you're supposed to care about your subjects – like by finding a way to make it so someone doesn't stink forever?"

"Now, precious," he cooed, gingerly drying his moppish hair. "How would I threaten the little cretins then? But you may found a scientific expedition, if you like – if you can find any of the little twerps with more brains than birds."

"You're really mean."

"Mean? I?" With a snap of his fingers, the King was dressed (Sarah wondered if she could do that now, too, but didn't trust herself to not accidentally strangle herself with a corset in the attempt), and he sat at the edge of the tub, gloved fingers tucked beneath her chin. "Now that is a title I simply cannot bear coming from one so lovely."

"Ugh." Sarah pulled her head away and dipped further into the water. "I want you to help the goblins because it's the _right thing to do_, not to please me."

"Oh well. I'm afraid we can't always get what we want." He grabbed her by the arm and yanked her closer to him, so that she could see the light gleaming off his sharpened teeth as he raked his eyes over her wet form. "_Can we_?" Sarah struggled a bit, Jareth let her go. "You're _still _not curious about my plan for the High Court?"

"I'm not," she grumbled, rubbing at the spot where he had grabbed her. "But you can tell me anyway if it will wipe that smug look off your face."

"I'm afraid nothing can do that. But very well, if you insist." He held up a towel for her, whether she was done washing or not, and Sarah knew enough to know it was better not to argue. He wanted her out, she'd get out. She stepped from the tub and he quickly wrapped the fluffy towel around her, dragging her against him and bending forward so that she pressed into the line of his body. "I was thinking..." He nibbled the edge of her ear, then a spot on her neck and her shoulder. "Why don't we go about getting you _pregnant_?" Sarah stiffened in his arms, but he would have expected her to do that. "When you're the mother of the heir to the throne, the High Court can try none of this nonsense ever again."

"T-they wouldn't do that anyway, I won."

"Oh, Sarah." He chuckled. "You and your 'winning.' You 'won,' against me, did you not? These things don't _end _just because of a few pretty words."

Sarah struggled against him, a wild kind of look in her eyes. "S-stop it."

"Stop what? It's not like we don't go through the motions of creation every night anyway..."

"_Let me go_, Jareth."

"What prompts this sudden squeamishness, hm? You're not afraid, are you?"

Sarah was able to pull herself out of his arms, stumbling toward the waiting vanity, trying to control her trembling. "Jesus Christ, I'm _eighteen_!"

"What of it? A century ago among your people, you would have been a mother by now." This was more than just her argumentative nature, the King's eyes narrowed. "What is it."

"It's nothing! M-maybe I'm just not ready yet, you never _ask _me anything!"

Jareth put a strong hand on her shoulder, tightly, and spun her around to face him. "Sarah," he was growling, a cold steel in his eyes. "Are you telling me you would be an _unfit _mother? Did you learn nothing in wishing your brother away? Would you _harm _a child?"

Gods above, she actually looked like she was near tears. "Of _course _not!" Somewhat startled, the Goblin King dropped his hand away from her shoulder. "I-I just...can you never just think about things from my perspective, about how maybe that would be really hard on me? Mentally, emotionally, whatever?"

"Tsk." Jareth stood taller, straightening the cuffs around his wrists. "Nonsense, it's not like you'd be doing everything yourself. You're a Queen, Sarah, the majority of the labor would go to nurses."

"That's _not _the point, and I think that's _terrible_."

"You are _impossible _to please."

"And you-!" The words wouldn't come, she stammered over her emotions. "_You _are going to be late to see the Goblin Guard, so just _go _already."

"_Fine_." It was a hiss, he took her by the elbow again and dragged her against his body. "But this _discussion _is not resolved. And it _will not _be resolved until we are picking out colors for a bassinet. Am I clear?" She wouldn't meet his eyes; clear enough, then. He let her go and vanished from the bathing chamber. Sarah almost fell without his hand holding her up by the elbow.

"_Offer to me the fruit of your womb, your firstborn child, and I shall help you_."

...Well, she hadn't had any choice, had she? She somehow didn't think that reason would fly with Jareth. He had already questioned her on the wedding ring, she said she'd tried using it to focus her magic on and it had been damaged in the process. He accepted that willingly enough and gave her a new ring, one with an even larger diamond in the setting. But she just had the feeling that if she tried a, "Surprise, I'm actually sterile," he'd never believe her. Moreover, he'd go about proving her wrong in short order.

Sarah sighed aloud, a wet lock of her hair moving slightly in the breeze she created. "Everything always happens at once." Dressing quietly and quickly, she grabbed for the bell cord and gave it a strong pull. Boltsneeze appeared at the doorway of the bedroom a moment later, his nose wrinkled in his confusion, tiny wings flapping.

"Majesty?"

"I need you to arrange for me to go to the Winter Kingdom today – now don't argue with me, Boltsneeze." Sarah crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes as the nosy goblin opened his mouth to protest. "I am _not _in the mood after this morning, and I'm allowed to bog people, too. So can you _please _just do this for me?" The majordomo sighed and nodded his wizened old head. Royals.

* * *

Sarah wore a dress mainly because she was given to understand she had to. It was what girls in the Underground wore, and it was what "befitted her station." She was getting really tired of hearing that, with all the politicking she'd been subject to in the last several weeks. But even so, she didn't get herself all dolled up to travel to the Winter Kingdom. It was a very plain black dress, it covered all the essentials, it was not overly fancy and allowed her some freedom of movement. She was also wise enough to bring a great big coat along with her, remembering how just being near Tothian had chilled her before.

It had been a smart move. The Castle at the heart of the Winter Kingdom looked _amazing_, like it had been formed out of crystal, glass and ice. Everything was beautifully crisp and chill, it dazzled the senses. It reminded Sarah of the way the sun glittered off the snow in a winter afternoon.

She would have continued her awestruck reverie had a voice not caught her attention. "Sarah?"

The girl quickly turned and her shoulders sank with relief. "Jadis!" The woman was carrying a steaming cup of something in her hands, her pale lips pursed in confusion at her surprise guest. "Am I ever glad to see you!"

"The feeling is quite mutual, I assure you," she replied with tight, blinking eyes. "But I cannot imagine the reason for the visit."

"Listen, I really hate to just drop in, but I have to see Tothian – your husband – the Winter King."

The elegant woman seemed somewhat amused by this, her lips quirking up in a slight smile. "I am familiar with all three titles, yes. But why for would you need to see Tothian?"

"It's...complicated. I just told him he could have something that he really can't, and I need to try to make him understand that, so if there's _any _way that I could just-"

"Queen Sarah." She stiffened at her proper title, looking cautiously over her shoulder. There was the Winter King alright, a white wool cape dripping off his shoulders. "What an endlessly wonderful surprise."

"Sarah came to see you, dearest," Jadis told him, her fingers delicately touching the girl's arm. Jadis' hands weren't as cold as those of her husband, but Sarah still noticed gooseflesh when she pulled away.

"I cannot confess to any surprise to hear that. Well, my lady, how about my study? It should prove private enough. You will excuse us, Jadis..." The woman bowed and took her leave, and Sarah suddenly wished she had stayed. Tothian was offering her his arm, even though she _really _didn't want to take it; hell, she barely let her husband do that routine, it felt icky to accept it from the Winter King. But not knowing what else to do, and not wanting to appear rude, Sarah accepted the gesture mutely. It wasn't a far walk to the study, and this room had a fire roaring merrily away in its grate – it didn't melt the walls, though, but then she figured the whole place was probably pretty magical. Tothian's office was strewn with finely woven carpets and was dominated by a mahogany desk. He took a seat behind this; Sarah remained standing. "Well, my lady? You wished to discuss something?"

"Yes. It's...about our bargain."

"Ah." The King's fingers steepled together, he rested his elbows on the desk. "I anticipated as much. Yes?"

"Look, I'm not trying to do take-backs or anything," he gave her a look that showed he had no idea what she was talking about, "and it's not that I don't totally appreciate the help you gave me – I do. But you've got to understand that I can't give you my firstborn _child_, even when I do get around to having one."

"That was our deal."

Sarah laughed awkwardly, thumbing her coat. This wasn't going quite like she had hoped... "Y-yeah, but it's crazy."

"Is it?" Tothian stood from his position behind the desk and walked around it to Sarah. He was taller than she was, and she was pretty sure he was trying to intimidate her. It was working. "It's too bad, then, that you agreed to it. I have no intention of changing my mind."

"T-Tothian," Sarah stammered, knitting her hands together. "You said you liked me, right? You've got to understand how this is for me. You can't just ask a mother to give up her _child_. Think of how you'd feel if the positions were reversed."

The Winter King ground his teeth together, his pale eyes were particularly cold. "I do not need to. Do you understand how _rare _it is for a child to be wished away to the Underground? No one in your world believes anymore. It will be ages before another child is wished away, and even when one is, _your husband _will not give it to Jadis and I! _He _controls all the wished away children – and now he has a mortal wife? A girl who can easily and endlessly provide him with all the heirs he could ever desire?"

"Excuse me, I am _not _some brood mare-"

"Where is the justice in that? In no way is it equitable that he has so much and we so little. You _both _can spare one child. No, I will not change the bargain." Without a glance, he stalked back behind his desk and reseated himself, almost as if he were dismissing Sarah.

The girl's jaw had dropped open. He really had no pity, then? Had he planned this from the start? "_I'm _not fey," she growled at him, her hands on her hips, which all these faerie perverts were apparently sizing up for spitting out babies. "I'm not bound with words the way you guys are. And _I _am changing the bargain. You can't have any kids of mine. Try and force me, and I'll tell Jareth about your little plot; he'd rip you limb from limb, and that's just for a starter."

Tothian narrowed his eyes at her from across the desk. "You think I am afraid of your beau, do you?" Frankly, Sarah didn't think much of anything, other than that she hated having to invoke her husband to get anything done in this stupid world. "Tell him, and I shall make sure the High Court knows just _how _it is you passed the trial."

"It was _my _magic, I would have gotten it eventually."

The Winter King grinned a very cold grin, his teeth like icicles in his mouth. "I very much doubt that. But I'm happy to let the High Court decide, if that's what you want."

"Here's what's going to happen." Sarah's eyes had gotten hotter even as Tothian's grew colder. "And it's not a request: I didn't mean it. And when I wished away my brother – which I also didn't mean – I had the option to run the Labyrinth to get him back. I _demand _the same thing here."

The Winter King sighed, leaning back in his chair and looking smugly disappointed. "You're quite sure?" Something inside of Sarah twinged. He knew something. This was his game, he was making all the rules. But what could she do, go back and tell Jareth what she'd done to get this far? He'd kill her, and she'd nearly deserve it. Instead, she just nodded. "As my lady wishes." He stood then, quickly, eyes intense and it startled Sarah somewhat. "Return tomorrow at ten in the morning, precisely. I shall give you a _labyrinth_, dear child."

* * *

As if he could scent the tension on her, Jareth did ask Sarah where it was she was in such a hurry to today. Her reply was that she was going to be spending the day with Jadis, which wasn't a _complete _falsehood. Jadis would definitely be around, somewhere. Probably. Sarah didn't bother with any kind of skirt today, she dug into her massive closet and found the one pair of jeans and blouse Jareth had allowed her – and that was only because it was nearly the same outfit she'd worn when she'd run the Labyrinth, and for some crazy reason, he liked that.

Tothian stopped short when he saw her dressed like that, standing in the Castle foyer, gaze hard and waiting for her next trial. "Queen Sarah, you look..."

She cut him off with a slicing motion from her hand, not in the mood. "If I'm running a labyrinth, I dress for the occasion. So what is the contest, what are the rules, what's at stake."

"_Well_." He seemed just as glad to get to the point as she was, and he rubbed his hands together in eagerness. "As I'm sure you can surmise, winter gains its greatest strength here in my Kingdom. Its very power lies within the heart of my domain. Since you had three days to conjure your magic at the High Court, three days seems reasonable here. Now," he held up his hand to stop her before she could interject. "I realize I cannot keep you here during the full three days. We're both taken, tongues would wag. However, thirteen hours of each day – ten in the morning to ten at night – seems both discrete and adequate. It's certainly more than your _dear _husband afforded you, is it not?" Sarah just glared at him. "By your silence, I take it you agree."

"So...what – I find the source of winter, you don't try to rob my cradle?"

Tothian's mouth twitched into a smirk. "Something like that."

Sarah took a deep breath. Accepting anything from this man had brought her nothing but trouble. But then...what choice was there? She put out her hand. He took it. "Done."

"Excellent. I suggest you get started, Goblin Queen." He had disappeared in a cloudy mist again, she wished he wouldn't do that. It was very disorienting.

Sarah sighed, looking down at herself. It was deja vu all over again, only this time it was _cold_. She wrapped her arms around herself and nodded. "Well, come on feet."

* * *

Hours she had torn through that Castle. Hours, ages! This place was worse than the bloody Labyrinth! Anything she touched, Sarah's fingers went numb and swollen. Her voice echoed an endless eternity down empty halls. Every turn seemed the exact same, an icy wall of blue, no landmarks, no flaws, _nothing_. What was even worse, at least _the _Labyrinth had been full of life; not always friendly life, but creatures to talk to, to rail against, even to plead with for help. In the Winter King's Castle there was _nothing_. It was a true, cold desert.

Even though everything felt slow and cold, the thirteen hours passed much faster than she ever could have imagined. Sarah was exhausted and dehydrated when a chuckling voice sounded in her ear, with no body heat behind it to indicate a physical form: "No progress today? Such a pity. Until tomorrow, Goblin Queen." Before she could plead or beg or curse Tothian's treachery, she found herself standing in her very own Castle in her very own kingdom. And just as utterly alone.

"Oh _crap_." Sarah's hands began to shake. Where was she, where was she – the Throne Room, empty. Where was Jareth? It didn't matter. She needed to sit down before she fell over. "Oh crap, oh _shit_." This was way worse than she had thought it was going to be. Tothian wasn't kidding around. What the hell did this mean? She was going to get knocked up, spend nine months waiting and anticipating, being _terrified –_ and _he'd _show up as soon as the cord was cut and take away everything? What kind of messed up world thought that was _okay_! Sarah was beginning to hyperventilate, what in the _hell _was she going to do now? Two more days of this? She could have had two more years and not been able to find the stupid thing!

"Queen?" Wog's wrinkly little head was peeking into the Throne Room, treading along to his place in the sleeping pile of his brethren in the rumpus room. "You cold?" Sarah drew her knees up to her chest on the seat of her throne like a tiny child and shook all the harder. Wog could smell something was wrong with his mistress, he bounded across the stone floor and up onto the arm of her chair. "Queen? Queen? No cry, Queen, no cry! Wog fix! Wog make better!"

"It's not you, Wog." Sarah's voice shook even as she stretched out a hand to pet the little creature. It crept onto her knee and peered at her with watery eyes. "It's me – I've _really _screwed up."

"No!" he insisted, rubbing his wrinkly head against her tear stained cheek. "You good Queen!"

"Not anymore...I'm not a good _anything _after this."

"Wog fix, Majesty! You tell Wog, he fix!"

"Wog..." Sarah couldn't fight back her tears, she held the tiny goblin to her chest and stifled her sniffling as best as she was able. "I-I...I did something stupid. I made a deal with the Winter King. I didn't know it would be this bad, but now he wants..." Sarah explained the whole thing to Wog. For his part, he was a very patient little goblin, listening to his monarch carefully, nodding when he understood, asking questions when he did not.

At the end of it, Wog's long ears were plastered back against his head. "_Snow King _try take baby?" Sarah nodded and wiped her nose on her sleeve like she was still a child. Would Wog be mad at her treachery, too? The little thing was starting to snarl. "Only goblin take baby..."

"That...wasn't quite the issue to me, but I can see why it would bother you."

"And he _no take _Baby Prince." Wog hopped off her lap, his boar's tail whipping back and forth across the stone floor, his teeth gnashing in anger. "You go back tomorrow?" She nodded again. Wog bobbed his head in a return gesture. "We make Snow King sorry. You go bed, Queen. In morning, we fix. It good?"

"I'm not sure there's anything you can-"

"We _fix_." Wog was very serious about this, but he rubbed his head against her knee in a comforting gesture anyway.

Sarah managed a weak smile. "Okay. It's good. I'll see you in the morning, Wog." He did not wait for a dismissal, he'd hurried off into the dark of the Castle. Sarah sat on the throne a moment longer, just looking out at it. Baby Prince, huh? So sure she'd be popping out sons? Jareth would probably say the same thing. Why did immortal beings need heirs anyway? A Goblin Prince...this whole Castle, this whole kingdom, to her child. Was this what she'd have wanted to give a child of hers? Maybe not. But that didn't mean the child might not want it.

She _couldn't _fail. She had to do this.

She didn't really notice her surroundings when she made her way quietly to the bedroom she shared with her husband. She just quietly undressed and slipped under the covers, a warm arm pressing around her. She stiffened for a moment - _he'll know, he'll know, he's going to _hate _me –_ but relaxed at the dulcet sound of his voice. "You were out quite late...must have been gossiping."

"You know me..." Sarah replied, noticing again how very dry her throat was.

"And how was the Winter Queen?"

"...cold."

Her husband chuckled beside her, the vibrations in his chest making her eyes fall halfway closed. "Physically, emotionally? I'd believe either. Sexually?"

"Ew. I didn't ask or try to find out."

"Good..." He pulled her closer and planted a warm, tired kiss against her temple. It seemed like the first time Sarah had felt warm all day – and it made her shiver. "I wouldn't share you even to see _that_ display."

"Somehow, I'm just not comforted..."

"Do you require comfort, Sarah, love?"

Sarah's mouth opened before she bit down on her tongue; she'd almost said it, she'd almost said everything, almost spilled it all before him and consequences be damned. She shook her head, but whispered anyway, "Yes. Tonight, yes."

He rolled gracefully on top of her, slender fingertips stroking from her eyes down to her jaw. Tonight, he would be gentle, she could tell. Oh God. He was a monster and he was going to make her fall in love with him, how had her life become _this_? "Then I shall give it to you." His mouth was soft against hers. Around them, the candles guttered out, either by magic or an understanding that this was a private moment, not to be shared by even the touch of light.

* * *

Sarah was trying to be better prepared for her second day; a pack, a length of rope, an enchanted goblet to give her water. She thought about bread crumbs and lipstick and torches, but she knew better. Magic wouldn't take kindly to her trying to mark her trail, she had already learned that lesson. She wondered if she ought to pack small articles of clothing to keep Wog warm, when a knock came at her bedroom door. Bugwit, Nogtwit and Wog, all standing tall, all with flash and fire in their eyes – well, all with flash and fire in their eyes. Nogtwit did not stand tall because it was completely against his nature. He cowered between his companions, but seemed willing enough to go to save his future king.

"You guys," Sarah began, surprised. "All three of you are willing to come?"

"All goblins willing," Bugwit nodded. "But too many, Snow King notice. Just us three, we make him sorry."

Sarah sighed, going on her knees before her brave little knights, touching each gently in turn. "I appreciate the valor, but...I-I'm really starting to not be sure. This isn't like before, when I didn't understand. I knew, and I made the bargain. This really is my fault, and if I fail...I'll have no one to blame but myself."

"Well..." Nogtwit's puce eyes were wide as he leaned his head against the Queen's lap. "If anyone can rescue baby, it be you."

The girl smiled a little, gently pushing her tiny friend off and making to stand. "If you guys think I can do it, then I know I can. Boltsneeze made me a portal in the kitchens. Go now, and I will be there in a minute, I just want to make sure there's nothing else I need to pack."

The goblins obediently nodded, skittering off, while Sarah took another turn about the room. What would help her to find the source of winter...What did she even have? An ivory-handled comb, a silver hand mirror, a box of slightly melted chocolates...Or did this sort of thing require stuff in the abstract? A memory of Christmas that would help her understand winter's chill, or something like that? She had no clue, and she'd just shouldered her pack and turned to go – when she nearly collided with her husband in the doorway.

Sarah almost shouted in surprise, and Jareth's strange eyes were narrowed at her. "Another day out, my love?" he asked her in a low, mistrustful voice. Sarah gulped and nodded. "And you are _packing _for it?"

"Th-this?" She looked at the bag, letting it fall down to her hand. "Just, um...a change of clothes and stuff I wanted to show Jadis."

"You two seem to becoming fast friends."

Sarah just gulped and nodded. "Mhm."

The Goblin King turned carefully around her, examining her like she might be a vicious creature that bit. "You would not tell me a falsehood, would you, precious thing? Your own husband?"

"O-of course not."

"No, of course not." Jareth seized her around the waist and dragged her against him so that she hissed in surprise and a little terror. "Because if you did...well, heaven help you. Because I don't share my toys."

Sarah snarled a little, pulling against his arms. "I'm _not _a toy."

He released her, and Sarah stumbled forward with the impediment removed. "Hm. Just see that you remember that."

The girl opened her mouth to say something – that she'd done _all_ this bullshit to make _him _happy, the great jackass – but just closed it again, green eyes glaring. What would be the point? He wouldn't understand. He'd just tell her it was merely his due, that she work and sacrifice to remain his Queen, when it was a role she'd never wanted in the first place. Sarah just grabbed her pack and rushed out the door. She had too much to do to waste time with him.

The Goblin King stood in his wife's quarters, and wondered if maybe he should have denied her this private space. Perhaps it would be better to keep her tethered closer, where he could keep his eyes upon her. He was debating the pros and cons of such an idea when he raised a gloved hand to run through his hair, and realized it was shaking.

* * *

A fork in the path. Sarah _hated _these things, because her luck with them was pretty rotten. Whatever road she took, it always seemed the other way would have held the answers she was seeking: _never go that way, _and, _one of them leads to the Castle at the end of the Labyrinth, and the other one leads to... _and so on. The Goblin Queen had her hands on her hips, head canted to the right, a sigh dying on her mouth. Bugwit, Nogtwit and Wog leaned in imitation.

"...what we do?"

"Well...we'll cover more ground if we split up. So two of us will have to go alone, and one will have to go with m-"

"I go with Queen!"

"No, I go!"

"Me!"

"Me!"

"Guys!" Sarah raised her hands, palms out, to shush them – though she was a little flattered they were all so anxious to be her companions. "Hush. I don't know if Tothian's watching, so let's not be so loud."

Wog put his long ears back against his head and snarled. "_Snow King_..." His brethren followed suit.

Sarah smiled a little, in spite of herself, and sighed. "Okay, then I think...Nogtwit should come with me."

Nogtwit's eyes lit up, his curly horns framing his overjoyed face. Wog and Bugwit started whining. "But _why_..."

"Because he's the most afraid to go by himself, and you two are the biggest and the bravest."

"It true," Nogtwit nodded, not in the least bit ashamed. "Nogtwit coward."

Bugwit snorted his disapproval, but it was true that he was the largest of the three of them, and Wog the most clever. "We follow halls, find winter."

"Right." Sarah scooped Nogtwit into her arms, where he cooed with happiness; he was no bigger than Toby was when she'd left, and he was actually lighter, so it wasn't too much of a burden. "Be careful, alright? No one gets hurt."

"No one gets hurt," Wog muttered, sniffing down the path he selected. "We win, Queen, you no worry."

With a nod of her head, Sarah started down the branching path on the far left, green eyes carefully scanning the icy walls. Nogtwit looked with similar wide-eyed wonder; to his mind, it was not nearly as nice as the Castle at the Goblin City. For one thing, not enough chickens. For another, far too cold. "What winter look like, Queen?" he asked her, an effort to pass the time, of which there was much. It had to have been hours of wandering by now.

"The manifestation of winter? I'm not sure..." she sighed, a lock of dark hair escaping the confines of her ponytail. "Or do you really mean the season? Isn't there winter in the Goblin Kingdom?"

"Yes," Nogtwit nodded, happy to know the answer to something. "Much cold, white wet stuff! We make big fires, drink lots ale, sleep."

"You do that anyway," she muttered to him, stroking the tips of his curly ram's horns. Nogtwit's leg kicked in his pleasure. "What about holidays? Christmas?"

"Christmas?" He tilted his head.

"You know, Santa Claus, baby Jesus, holiday shopping, chestnuts roasting on an open Yule log..."

"Yule!" Nogtwit nodded enthusiastically. "We have Yule, yes! Drink ale-"

"Of course..."

"-eat Yule boar! Have big party!"

"Yule...boar?" Sarah's stomach turned a little at the thought.

"_Boar_," he said it more slowly, fuzzy eyebrows knit in consternation. She was a good Queen, but sometimes a little slow. "Smoke or cure, then bake or boil and _eat_." He licked his chops.

Sarah straightened a little. "Oh, so it's not like...the head or anything? It's just a Christmas ham?"

"No." Nogtwit shook his head. "Not ham, it boar."

She laughed a little, scratching him behind his ears. "All related, Nogtwit, it's-" The girl stopped, and even Nogtwit had the wisdom to clap his tiny hands over his mouth. There was a voice around the corner, a familiar, lilting, female voice, and Sarah just dared take a peak.

"...said I wanted the trim done in silver fox fur!" It was Jadis; they'd been about to turn the corner into another anti-chamber, and the Winter Queen was taking off a long, flowing robe she'd been modeling. Apparently it had not been finished yet, for it was still held together with pins, and its trim was done in some kind of white mink. "It's wrong _again_, you little idiots!"

"Majesty, Majesty!" Scraping before her on her knees was what Sarah assumed must be the Winter Kingdom version of her goblins. Speaking of Christmas, the nearest she could relate them to were little elves, like Santa's workshop helpers. They were about the same size as her goblins, but with much cuter faces. One had a long, white beard, another a youthful face full of mischief and sorrow. They both wore pointed hats of red or green, and shoes with curling toes and bells on the end. "We will fix it, dear Queen!"

"See that you do! _Ugh_!" She gave an angry shriek and tossed the offending garment – a piece of beautiful workmanship so far as Sarah could tell – so that it landed on and completely covered one little elf. "Does anyone have to suffer such _useless _servants as me!"

The covered elf pulled the cloak from off his face, spitting out pins. "A thousand apologies, Mistress!"

"I don't want your _apologies_, you cretin. Do you know who I am, who my mother and father were? I deserve so much better than this!" One serving elf was trying to sneak away with the offending cloak, and Jadis turned and kicked it for good measure. "You useless little imps have no idea how lucky you are!"

Sarah clutched Nogtwit to her and took off in the opposite direction, shaking. She turned down several more halls and only stopped when her frantic running nearly made her drop her companion. "No more!" she whimpered, squeezing the little goblin against her chest. A dripping icicle caught the collar of her shirt as she made one slippery corner, and she stumbled down to her knees, her blouse tearing down to the collarbone in the process.

Nogtwit leaped from her arms to examine her knees, but the denim held up and she'd suffer no more than a few bruises and a ripped shirt. "Queen?" he whimpered, peering into her face and fussing over her. "It be alright, Snow Queen no hurt you."

"Nogtwit." Sarah's voice was shaking, and she held his little head in her hands. "Damn it, does _everyone _in this place suck? I thought – I _thought_..." _I thought I wanted to be like _that, _once..._

Nogtwit blinked his puce, goblin eyes, not quite understanding the cause of her upset. "Most people no like we small fey. It fine."

"It's _not _fine." Sarah was gritting her teeth, refusing to cry through her anguish or her anger. "This place is awful and I don't want to be here anymore!"

"How excellent." Sarah clapped her hands over her ears; Tothian's voice again, and though Nogtwit looked all around, he was nowhere to be seen. "For today's time is up. Until tomorrow, little Queen."

* * *

Everything felt cold and stiff and numb. It was so bad, Sarah was having a hard time undoing the button on her jeans. She'd just managed to wiggle out of her pants and kick them off her ankles – when Jareth's hands came out of nowhere, grabbed her by the shoulders, and pinned her to the bed. Sarah shrieked in shock, trying to calm her racing heart as his cold eyes loomed above her.

"_Bruised knees_, Sarah?" the Goblin King was hissing, sharp teeth bared as he examined her critically. "Really? If I check your hands, will those be marked as well?"

"_What_?" Sarah's breathing was heavy as she tried to keep pace with his _insane _thought process. Bruised knees? From her falling? "So!"

She choked slightly as his fingers dug into the collar of her shirt and pulled it tight against her. Jareth lay his face close to the crook of her neck. "I don't smell him on you...but I see you were in such a haze of passion your _tore _your clothes?"

"What in the _hell _are you talking about, you owlish freak!" Sarah grunted, trying to get her arms between their chests to shove at him. "Get off me!"

"Do you think I am really that blind a fool, Sarah?"

"_I don't know what you're talking about_!"

"Hurrying away to the Winter Kingdom twice – in two days? Jadis is _not _that stimulating a conversationalist." Sarah winced, and it was damning evidence in his eyes. "And you don't even _deny _it?"

"Deny _what_?" Her voice was dry, almost begging. It was well he knew her proclivities for acting, for he might have otherwise believed the earnestness of her voice. "_I don't understand_."

"I'm sure you don't..." The Goblin King hooked his fingers beneath the buttons of her blouse and pulled, and the small stays popped, buttons flying across the room. Sarah squeaked as she was laid bare before him. Jareth's hands were _not _gentle as he turned her this way and that, looking for the lightest fingerprint, the barest mark of teeth. "Cold hands and cool lips en-flame you so, my love?"

"Have you lost your mind!"

"I may – have you? Thinking I would stomach your infidelities with the _Winter King_?" She went stiff as a corpse beneath him, and he felt a pain within his chest. It was not supposed to be like this; the Labyrinth had chosen her as _his _mate, so why must he suffer through this? "Oh Sarah, poor, foolish little girl."

"It's _not _like that." She said it with an intensity of conviction, but she was shivering in fear beneath him. "I wouldn't, I _wouldn't_! I _hate _him."

"As you hate me?" Jareth leaned his face close to hers, watched her wince away. "Oh yes, I can see that you do..."

"_Please_..." She _dared _to use tears on him, her shaking hands coming up to grab the collar of his open shirt. "Please, don't do this, I _didn't_-"

"_Enough_." Jareth pulled back, breaking her grip and eyes flashing. "Faithless woman. You disgust me."

"_Jareth_!" Sarah sat up, but was a mess of sobbing tears. Her eyes red, her cheeks swollen, she looked a mess, and a part of him wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and smooth back her crying. But he would not be that weak. "I _wouldn't _lie about this!"

"Then _why _do you go there?"

She hesitated, biting her lower lip – before shaking her head. "I-I can't tell you." His eyes narrowed. "I _can't_! You wouldn't understand it if I did, it would only make everything worse!"

"Tch." The Goblin King slid from off his bed, nearly as cold as Tothian might have appeared to her. "Of course I wouldn't...Leave, Sarah."

"W-what?" She rubbed her torn cuffs against her eyes to dry her face, but her back still shook with her repressed sobs.

"I said _leave_." He pointed to the door, and she just stared with jaw agape. "I will not have you in my bed, not now."

There were so many times that would have given Sarah cause for joy in the three months she'd been captive in the Underground. Now, it tore her heart in two. Without another word, without a glance at her husband, she pulled on a robe and ran out of the room, across to her own quarters, slamming the door behind her in desperation.

_What in the hell am I doing all this for_? Her hands were shaking as she pulled the scrunchie from her hair and threw it onto her vanity. _He doesn't deserve my children, that owl-faced, evil, uncaring, stupid- w-why am I crying?_

It felt as though her knees were about to give way beneath her, and so Sarah let herself sink onto her own, empty bed for the first time ever in a night in the Underground. What was the point of trying to do the right thing if _this _was how she was treated? The Goblin Queen pulled her knees to her chest and tried to refuse to cry again, but that didn't seem to work. Where was a fairy godmother when a girl needed one, or just a friend?

Or a husband?

He was across the hall in his own chambers, pouring glasses of wine, throwing those into the fire, and cursing the day he listened to the wishes of a fifteen year old girl. And also he was wishing he could grant her older self anything she wanted, if only her wishes were for him.

* * *

One more day – one more chance to set things right. Sarah smoothed lip balm over her mouth, hoping to stop the cold from chapping her this time, and tied her hair back low against her neck. If she didn't win, she was going to find a way back to the Aboveground, because _fuck this place_. She'd had enough of wishes and fairy tales and dreams that didn't come true to last for the rest of her life. She'd told the boys to meet her down in the kitchens, and had been about to grab her bag-

But it was gone from its spot by her vanity. "What the..." Sarah was sure she'd put it right there, and turned to look for it – and saw him.

The strap of her knapsack was dangling from the tips of Jareth's lithe fingers. He was dressed in his Goblin Armor, a sure sign of his mood, but it did always make him look resplendent: all black, a dark cape, imposing, regal. Sarah blinked up at him. "Knowing your pig-headed nature, I assumed you would be shameless enough to return to the Winter Kingdom again today."

Sarah blushed a little at the rebuke, but fisted her hands at her hips anyway. "Who's pig-headed?" Jareth just raised a swooping eyebrow at her. "...seriously, Jareth, you can't come."

"Oh? And are you going to stop me, Sarah?"

"If I knew how, I would...if you're there, it could ruin everything."

"That's rather the idea."

"You don't understand how serious this is."

"Yes," he hissed, bending forward at the waist and staring at her. "I do."

The Goblin Queen sat silently for a little while, swallowing hard before nodding. "Fine. I obviously can't stop you."

"No, you cannot." She was about to stand up, but Jareth suddenly offered her his black gloved hand. This time, Sarah took it. She needed some kind of physical touch to get her through this, even if it was from Jareth – and if she were being realistic, none of this would have happened if he hadn't abducted her in the first place. Maybe she was just exhausted from all that was happening, but she couldn't manage to be mad at him today. She began to move toward the door, but he held his grasp firm and did not move. "No sneaking through portals in the kitchen, my dear – oh yes, I knew." Sarah gulped and looked down at the floor. "Don't let go of my hand. Close your eyes." The girl obeyed, and her husband watched, drawing her in tenderly while she could not see. He held the back of her head with his free hand, his cheek resting at the crown of her head, and in the blinking of an eye, they were gone.

* * *

Jareth had brought them into the Throne Room, which made sense. Where else would he know to go? Sarah would believe he'd bring her to a bedroom in an attempt to shame her, but that joke was on him. Besides, he probably didn't know where one was. The Goblin King looked around the icy hall in a carefully studious gesture, the bearing of a man sizing up his opponent. Sarah kept her head low and watched him watching the world, trying to best work out where to begin her search again.

"Jareth?" Tothian had walked into his own Throne Room and seemed utterly surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Tothian..." he purred in a cold, cruel voice, flicking his dark cape behind him. "I hope you have been well – it's not to last."

The Winter King still looked baffled, before he noticed Sarah; his eyes narrowed. "Did you bring him? I'll call off the deal."

Jareth looked equally perturbed. "Deal?"

"I _didn't _bring him," the little Goblin Queen shook her head. "No one is calling off any deals. I have thirteen hours, and I'll beat them out of you if I have to."

Tothian snorted. "Such violence from one so small. How uncouth."

"_What deal_?" Jareth hissed, rubbing his gloved hands together and looking quite dangerous.

"Well," Sarah began, sucking in a deep breath and carefully looking around. "_Why don't you ask him, I have to go now, bye_!" With that, she took off at a dead run to the Throne Room doors; she didn't have time to get in the middle of a fey pissing contest, she had thirteen hours to find winter and the clock was ticking _fast_.

"_Sarah_!" She could hear him bark her name behind her, knew he could have easily caught her, but maybe Tothian had distracted him, because she somehow escaped through the doors and turned down the first hall she came to.

She hadn't run this hard since trying to beat a record in gym class, and before that, trying to find the first bend in the Labyrinth. Her breath came in shallow gasps and she could feel her pulse pounding in her neck, but still she didn't stop. Sarah tried every door, every corner, cursed and tried again. She had to find it, she just _had _to-

She collided physically with Jadis, falling back and banging her elbows against the cold floor so that she could feel her arms going numb. The Winter Queen stood above her, a scowl marring her porcelain face before she helped the girl to her feet. "J-Jadis!" Sarah wasn't sure if she was stammering from the cold or from her shock.

"Sarah – where are you running to? Stay put, child."

"N-no, I can't. Listen, listen to me, _please_. You have to help me – Tothian's taken something, I have to find winter to get it back, I have to, I-"

"Sarah." Jadis smoothed her cold hand against the girl's cheek, and Sarah shivered harder. "I already know."

The Goblin Queen's eyes tripled in size, and she backed away slowly until she met the unyielding surface of a crystal wall. "You what?"

"It was never a secret. You are young, I know this is upsetting to you now. But there is no reason to fret."

"It's my _child_, it would be a part of my _body_!"

"_I know_." The Winter Queen drew ever closer, framing the girl's face in her cool hands. "I had a child once – a boy all my own, a son of my own flesh and blood. A beautiful child with hair like December and eyes like the sun in winter...and do you know what happened to him?" Sarah shook her head, totally mute. Jadis' colorless eyes went hard and ruthless, like the coldest winter in memory. "His _wet nurse_, fool that she was, grew tired one night when he would not stop crying – and she wished him away to the goblins. And _your lordly husband _took him. That..._creature_," she almost spit, drawing away and looking cold and terrible. "That _strumpet _was too afraid to run the Labyrinth and retrieve _my boy_ – and now he is lost to me forever. Tell me, Sarah, _why_," and she hissed, the stirrings of an icy breeze pulling at her pale hair, "_why _should I take pity on you? The Goblin King never took pity on me, nor on my child. I will have what's _mine_."

"It's not yours!" Sarah was almost screaming, but Jadis still had her trapped against the wall.

The Winter Queen's frosted lip pulled up in a terrible, predatory smile. "No? It soon will be. You claim your mortality keeps your words from binding you, but chains will work just fine, I think. I am not afraid to hold you until the thirteen hours are up and we may claim what is ours." Sarah thought the woman was lunging for her, raised her arms to shield herself and fight her off, but suddenly Jadis screamed in pain and stumbled backwards.

Sarah looked down, blood was pooling on the icy surface of the Castle floor – and that was not all. "_Bugwit_!" The goblin had sunk his little teeth into the woman's ankle and was shaking the way a dog might shake a bone, a deep growl in his throat. Wog and Nogtwit came bounding around a corner as Jadis magicked herself away as quickly as possible, and Bugwit was licking his blood-stained lips in terrible satisfaction. "You guys! How did you-"

"Boltsneeze run dumb mouth," Wog was growling while Nogtwit sniffed at the pool of blood and turned his nose up at it. "Tell King about portal – so we use before it close!"

"He only told so he no get bogged..." Nogtwit weakly defended.

"You brave little creeps, you!" Sarah went down on one knee and pulled them all into her arms, not caring that Bugwit was staining her blouse. "I don't know where Jareth is, last I saw him was with the Winter King. We don't have much time: I don't know if he'd try to stop us, but Jareth's definitely not happy right now."

"We _find _winter, Queen," Wog was nodding, wrinkly face set.

"Then...we bite Snow King, too," Bugwit grinned through crimson teeth. Wog licked a fleck of blood off his chin and nodded his approval. Sarah closed her eyes and tried to ignore her sense of nausea. She needed allies right now, this was no occasion to be picky.

"Do more than bite." Goblin grins were lighting up all around her, and Sarah shook her head.

"We'll worry about that later. Come on, we need to hurry."

* * *

So, the girl thought to distract him by dragging her husband into it, did she? Tothian was not to be put off, and he was not about to allow Jareth to help her. He had been clear on this from the start, and really, more than fair. His Castle bent to his whims, he could watch each desperate move she made, and watched the time drift away, like sands dripping through an hourglass. No, he grinned to himself. No, she'd never make it in time.

But the Winter King had not counted on the sheer power of her _will_; the power that had allowed her to make friends of enemies in the Labyrinth, the power of her spirit that bent ancient magic to her now. He watched in horror as she actually...truly...crept ever closer to his inner sanctum, to the heart and to the prize! This could _not _be allowed. Jadis had failed in waylaying her. He would do it himself.

The Goblin King he left waiting in his study. Oh, Jareth had had plenty of questions, but no power to force the answers: they were in the Winter Kingdom now. Should he be foolish enough to lay hands on its King, the High Court would see it as a completely unprovoked attack, and punish swiftly and without mercy. Jareth knew this. It was why he ground his teeth and waited, dying to find his little girl bride and discover the source of all this trickery. Little did Tothian know, however, that his constant presence by his "guest's," side was comforting in one way – he could not be conducting an affair with the Goblin Queen if she was on the other side of the Castle.

But Jareth would have to entertain himself for a little while, as the minutes of the last hour drew ever closer to an end. The girl was just a little _too close_. That could not be allowed. Tothian reveled in the tiny cry that burst from the Goblin Queen's red lips when he appeared before her, hand resting comfortably on one of his walls. "It was a grand game, Sarah, even you must admit that. Give up now, and I will be merciful."

Her little horde of _disgusting _goblins snarled at him, and the girl picked up her head with defiance. "_Screw _your mercy, what in the hell does that even mean, coming from you?"

"Shall I tell you?" He grinned quietly to himself and pushed off the wall, steps echoing down the icy hallway. "Give up now, and nothing more needs be said by anyone ever. You will give me your firstborn child and we will move on as amiable enemies. Continue in your stubborn vanity, and that will _not _be the case. For a start, I shall let the High Court know of how it was you passed the trial."

"I'll tell them of what you held over my head to make it happen!"

Tothian just shrugged. "What's said is said. You agreed to the terms. There will be a punishment – they may even dethrone you." His grin was truly horrible now, as terrible as the icy winter. "Crownless queens don't go far in the Underground, my dear. Besides, I think it's fitting that the Child Stealer will have his child stolen, don't you? Would you really rather I shame you in front of the entire Underground? Rather be tossed out as nothing into the world?" To her foolish credit, the Sarah creature stood taller and met his cold stare, a fire in her green eyes. "What might one do, after all, with Jareth's slut-"

No sooner had the word left his lips than Sarah heard a horrible screeching noise behind her; an owl, its talons drawn, was lunging claw first right for the Winter King's eyes. She barely blinked, and Tothian wasn't there at all, but a stately white wolf, its ears pulled back against its head as the barn owl's talons dug into its fur and flesh. There was a snapping of jaws, a gnashing of teeth – horrible, screaming sounds, and blood splattering the floor and walls. Sarah did not have time to stare, she leaped into action. "Bugwit, Wog! Go help!" She almost threw the little goblins into the fray, but they were enthusiastic for a chance of well-earned violence, and she could hear their own powerful jaws beginning to snap in enthusiastic defense of their King. Sarah grabbed Nogtwit and took off, skirting past the fighting creatures before her.

"Look," she hissed, a little breathless. "If he was trying to stop us, we have to be close! _Think_, Nogtwit," she begged as she rounded another corner and skidded to a halt before three more doors. "If you were hiding an entire season, where would you put it!"

"Eh..." Nogtwit was wracking his tiny brain as best he could, but he was not one of the smart goblins, he did not even have Wog's innate scheming sensibilities. His eyes then lit upon the inconspicuous, wooden door just behind them. "There!" he cried, leaping out of his Queen's arms and bouncing before the door.

"Nogtwit, that's a _closet_!" Sarah cried, chasing after him. "We don't have time for this!"

"Thing not always what it seem!" he cried, still bouncing and clawing for the crystal handle. Frustrated, Sarah grabbed the knob and turned it, opening the door on-

"Holy macaroni..." It was _not _a closet. Why hadn't she believed him? It was the perfect way to disguise a door one didn't want seen. Behind the rough hewn wood not fit for storing mops lay a dome of perfect crystal, light filtering down and making everything _glitter _with icy beauty. Somehow – magically, she supposed – it was snowing inside, perfect flakes of softness, white and gentle. Not cruel, not horrible like Tothian and his cold magics. It was like being inside a snow globe, Sarah realized, and sitting on a pedestal at the center... "_Wow_..." It was perfect. Bigger than one of Jareth's crystals, it was blue and white and _gorgeous_. Sarah approached it carefully, the snow crunching beneath her tennis shoes, her hands outstretched for it. The winter globe was cool to the touch, but not painful. A chance for pure, new beginnings, not cold, dark endings. "It's...magical, it's..."

"_That is mine_!" Sarah whirled on her feet, clutching the ball close to her. Tothian had his hands locked behind his back, pinned by one hand of the Goblin King. Blood dripped down the Winter King's nose, and a bruise spreading under his eye was a good clue he'd broken his cheek bone. "You impudent little hussy, you cheating wh-"

Jareth tossed the man hard to the ground before him, watching as the snow fluttered away at the rush of air. Bugwit and Wog seemed to have come out unscathed, and they quickly tackled the prisoner to the ground, one biting at his ear, the other at the crown of his head. Jareth just pinned his quarry with one boot on his spine. "Quit while you're ahead, dear Tothian. Your game is at an end."

Sarah's hands clenched around the crystal, her heart pounding in her chest – why would it do that? She was just glad he wasn't hurt. Oh, Jareth had a split lip, and it looked like his arm had been badly knocked when in the shape of a delicate wing, but he seemed to be in better shape than his opponent. "Jareth-!"

"The Goblins will take you back now, Sarah." He spared her barely a glance, and she shrunk away a bit. To have come so far...could he really be mad at her? His tone softened a little. "What I am about to do is not for such lovely eyes as yours, precious thing." Mute, Sarah nodded, letting the ball rest at the crook of her elbow while Nogtwit sat upon her shoe, the other two quickly loping over. In the twinkling of a moment, she was gone, and the Goblin King allowed himself one sigh of relief – and then one nasty, satisfied grin as he knelt down before his prey in the snow. "A bad miscalculation on your part, I'm afraid, Tothian – my fine, fluffy friend. Not that you were to know, entirely. Sarah did very well this time, look – ten whole minutes left to spare. You must be _quite _ashamed." He grinned in amusement as Tothian snarled into the cold of the snow. "Unfortunately for you, I made a promise to my wife. Should anyone ever dishonor her with _that word_," and he spit, grabbing his victim by the hair and yanking his head from the snow bank, "I promised to kill him."

Tothian sneered his defiance, determined to be a king to the end. "You do not scare me, Goblin King..."

"Oh, but I should." Jareth tilted his head and his owl's eyes glittered. "For you see, I also promised to tear off his limbs and feed him his intestines." He grinned to watch the man blanch the color of the snow around him. "Where shall we begin?"

* * *

"So, the Winter King gets to be a wolf, you get to be a barn owl...when do I get my bad ass animal transformation?"

"Why don't we work on getting you to conjure things without setting the drapes on fire first?" Sarah tried to elbow him in the ribs, missed, and hit his arm. Jareth hissed. "That still_hurts_, you know."

It was worth it to see the sudden guilt in her eyes, smoothed over with a playful flare as she gently picked up his arm by the elbow. "You owls and your hollow bones..." The Goblin Queen kissed her husband where his arm was bandaged, gently and sweetly, and her eyelashes fluttered as she looked up at him. "All better?"

Jareth smirked a little and brushed a lock of dark hair behind her ear. "It's a start."

The royal couple were tucked into _their _quarters – the shared room of the King and Queen, the husband and wife. The King lay sprawled along a velvet, burgundy chaise, his lithe legs crossed at the ankle; his wriggling bride would lay atop him in front of the roaring fire, complain she was too hot and roll so that she was at his side, then mutter something about the cold and roll back on top again. It was irritating, but also endlessly amusing. Jareth had ordered mulled wine and locked the doors magically and physically. It was always cute when Sarah talked about being under age when it came to alcohol, but somehow it was never hard to get her to indulge.

"I feel like I'll never be warm again..." she shivered, tucking her chin along his chest and staring deeply into the flickering fire.

Jareth draped his arm around her back and let his fingers gently stroke her. How long he had craved such a moment, beautiful Sarah like his pet – no, like his Queen. And she _really _was, a passionate, hard-working, _stunning _Queen. "I can fix that..."

She ignored his innuendos and wandering hands, focused on the matter that occupied her mind. "Is it safe to keep the winter here? Should it go back home?"

"I consider this a spoil of war. The seasons will still change, if that's what concerns you. The Winter Kingdom will just have considerably less magic flowing through it than it used to."

"But the people there will suffer."

"That is the price they pay for their leaders' treachery."

"Jareth, that's not right!" He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. Gods, did she always have to fight him on these things? Sarah must have noticed his temper flare, for she ducked her head a little and lowered her eyes. "You know...how about we discuss this later..."

"An _excellent _idea on your part, precious thing..." The King ran his thumb across her soft, red lips, letting his gaze linger on the beautiful curves of her face. "Besides, I thought we might use its power to supplement your own while you are in study."

Sarah perked up a little, clearly interested. "Could we do that? Would that be allowed?"

"I see no reason why not. You found it, after all."

Sarah sighed and rolled so that she was more or less on her back, her husband's arm pillowed beneath her. "I just can't imagine the High Court is going to be happy about this. I mean, you killed the Winter King – don't tell me you didn't, I'm not an idiot – and exiled his Queen. It doesn't seem the kind of thing they look too fondly on."

"You worry too much, love," he replied, adjusting his arm to keep her from settling along the sore spot. "The High Court expects a certain amount of intrigue. It is a part of our fey nature. I was provoked, I had to act."

"You attacked him in his own house."

"Ah," he corrected, tapping her on her nose so that she wrinkled it charmingly. "In my owl form. They tend to be more lenient with these things – animal instincts, and all."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "And you just happened to be flapping around the castle as a bird?"

Jareth grinned at her. "Just so."

Sarah's mind had moved on to other matters, she was biting her lower lip in the way her husband found particularly charming. "Jareth..." she asked, voice low, eyes still focused on the fire. "Did you really take Jadis and Tothian's child?"

There was no shame in this. It was his ancient duty, as well as his right. "I did."

Sarah's eyes left the fire, she looked down in deep thought. "What happened to him?"

Jareth sighed, his fingers stroking the soft ends of her hair. "In your little story, you believed I would turn your brother into a goblin."

"Yeah, but you said human children are adopted."

"And so they are. But you were not far from the mark: children among the fey are such a rarity, they are to be treasured. And if one does not know better, they are to be fully impressed with the consequences of their actions. These are the babes I turn into goblins." Sarah said nothing, briefly debating asking which of the goblins the Winter Prince could be now. One she knew, one she treasured? But curiosity had done too much to hurt this cat already: it was better not to know, she decided. It was Sarah's turn to shift, and she looked distinctly uncomfortable. The grin fled from the King's face, disappearing into a frown. "What is it, Sarah." She mumbled something and he tilted her face toward him, gaze intense. "What _is _it."

Sarah sighed, tried to look anywhere but his eyes, but ultimately failed. "You're not...mad at me?"

The Goblin King blinked several times. "...you expect me to be?"

"I bargained with the life of our future _child_ – yours and mine, presumably. I'd have been pissed, if the positions were reversed."

"I am more put out that you would not tell me."

"I _couldn't_."

"You could. I would have helped you."

"He would have forced my hand!"

"Sarah." Jareth had hold of her by the chin, so that she could not turn away from him, and her gaze was wide and open and _beautiful _in its vulnerability. "You are my Queen. I can allow no harm to befall you. My fealty to you forever, don't you remember?"

Rather than melt into his looks, Sarah's mouth quirked in the barest of smiles, and she shifted against his hand a little. "Right, well...next time a fey psycho tries to force me to give up my unborn children, I'll be sure to clue you in."

Jareth, however, was not laughing, and he did not release his hold on her. "I am going to ask you something. Realize it is very difficult for me, and I will not ever ask it again."

Sarah blinked in shock. "O-okay...?"

The Goblin King took a deep breath through the nose, never breaking eye contact with his bride, and at last asked, "...are you mad at me?"

_That _was not what she was expecting. "W-what?"

"Are you upset with me. You had misgivings about the...physical nature of our relationship, and I..." He coughed slightly, and it was his turn to try looking away. Sarah was fascinated. "Seemed to imply the other night that you were, in some way, of lesser virtue, when you had not committed any true wrongs...Does this _bother _you?"

Sarah's lips had pulled into a soft, sweet smile, her teeth white in the light of the fire. Jareth had no idea what she had to be smiling like that about, and it unnerved him somewhat. "You know what?" she shook her head. "Like I said, we're stuck with each other forever. If we hold on to every little issue, we won't need to worry about forever, because we'll kill each other first."

"It's less romantic when you say it like that."

"You're not off the hook for everything you've ever done to me – but that one's forgiven, free of charge. Just...don't do it again."

Slowly, the King's mouth pulled into his more characteristic, smug smirk, and he rolled the girl so that she landed on his chest again, the better for his hands to grab at that lovely waist of hers. "Don't give me cause for jealousy."

"Don't jump to so many conclusions!"

"Don't keep secrets."

"D-don't...don't...don't say any other remarks about me being 'delicious,' in front of company! Ever!"

"Sarah."

"What!"

"Don't keep talking." Jareth's mouth found hers, and she really couldn't keep talking. She hated him, she hated him, she hoped he kept kissing her like that, because it got her blood pumping in the most wonderful ways. Sarah had had a long week; she was willing to enjoy the _hell _out of her conjugal rights, and whimpered against his mouth in the ways she knew made him start throbbing. They were breathless when their lips disentangled, eyes dark, hands searching for the most sensitive places to touch. "Now..." Jareth's tongue slid over her lips one more time and Sarah moaned, eyes closing. "Approaching the subject of heirs again..."

The girl opened one green eye, fixing her husband with a hard look. "That is _never _happening." A pause. "Right away."

"In the near future?"

"Can I _please _just be older than eighteen before we start talking the babies? Please?"

"Well..." Jareth rolled his bride beneath him, reveling in the perfect fit of her body below his. His mouth pressed against hers, and the rest of the world did not matter. "I think we can negotiate that, yes."

**The End **


End file.
